
^aiiiit ^. ^^tralf 



HEART-FELT 



P 







— B V — 

DAVID B-^ETCALF 



Honi soit qui mal g pense 
'Evil be to him who evil thinketh. 



D. B. MRTCALF, PUBLISHER 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 

1921 






Copyright, by 

DAVID B. METCALF 

1921 



JAN -7 i92l 



©CU604880 



PREFACE 

TN presenting this volume of poems to the pubUc and my readers, 
I would state that Id) not do it in an egotistical spirit, what- 
ever, as I heartily despise insufferable egotism. This book is 
simply one of newspaper poems, published in some of the leading 
newspapers of the United States, as follows : The New York Star 
Journal, the Waverlej Magazine, of Boston, the NeA^ York 
Family Storg Paper, th? New York Weeklg, Philadelphia Press, 
Cleveland Leader, Louisville Courier- Journal, Chicago Tribune, 
Chicago Inter-Ocean, Chicago Chronicle, and others, not neces- 
sary to mention. 

My f rst poem was published in the New York Star Journal in 
1372, and Ella Wheeler Wilcox wrote for the Waverleg Magazine 
of Boston, the same time I did, under the name of Ella Wheeler ; 
James Whitcomb Riley wrote for the Indianapolis Journal at that 
time, in the 70's and 80's. I received a letter from James Whit- 
C3mb Riley three months before his death, in July, 1916, in an- 
swer to mine, complimenting me on the verses I had sent him. I 
may be criticised as being too sensational in some of my poems, 
but I would rather be that way than too much otherwise, like a 
floating iceberg, congealing the hearts of those about me. 

There are tv/o classes of poems — the "Heart-felt Poems," and the 
"Intellectual Poems." I give my book the title of "Heart-Felt 
Poem.s", £S coming from the heart £S well 2S the heed. No poet 
who does not feel what he writes will not touch the hearts of those 
around him, except his own heart is in it, for his poems will be as 
a "s( unding brass or a tinkling cymbal." 

I wish to say right here in this preface, that American literature 
iS not encouraged as it should be, and that the Press is in a great 
measure responsible for it. Instead of encouraging young ambi- 



6 



tious writers of genius to mount upward, critics often throw out 
jibes and sneers at them, and sarcastically making the remark, "A 
Spring Poet',' when, perhaps, that spring poet has more good 
common sense than their critics have. 

In the ancient days of Greece and Rome, even the Grecian and 
Roman emperors vied with the poets of that day in writing verse 
—such as the Grecian emperor, Dionysius, and the tyrant emperor 
Nero, of Rome, both of whom vied with the poets in writing verset 
like the Grecian athletss vied with each other in their Olympian 
games. 

Poetry is acknowledged far superior to prose, in expressing the 
noble aspirations of the soul, and no difference how intellectual a 
poem may be, if the heart is not in it, it will amount to nothing. 
I read of a poet-laurerate of a foreign country in celebrating a 
victory in verse, whose poem fell below the standard because his 
heart was not in it. He knew, as poet-laurerate, that it was his 
duty to write a grand poem, but it was more of the intellect than 
the heart, hence it fell flat. 

I am not mercenary. I have not made anything by my poems. 
I wrote more to seek to benefit and encourage humanity than any- 
thing else, for my heart was in it ever since I was seventeen years 
of age. 

I hope the day may soon come when our nation may become 
unique in American literature, and second to none in the encour- 
agement of its young, ambitious wTiters, though they may be but 
"diamonds in the rough," in polishing them so that ere long they 
may shine as writers of genius, to dazzle and honor the nation in 
which they live. 

Chicago, III., 1921. DAVID B. METCALF. 



SHORT SKETCH OF THE BUSINESS LIFE OF 
DAVID B. METCALF 

Written bi; himself 

J)avid Brown Metcalf, was born October 26, 1851, in West Point, 
Hardin County, Kentucky, on the banks of the Ohio River. 
At five years of age, 1856, he came with his parents to Ilhnois, 
settUng in Pittsfield, Pike County, the county seat of said county. 
From there ^he family moved to Griggsville, in the sam.e county, 
in 1861, at the outbreak of the Civil War, where the subject of 
this sketch attended the grammar and high school of that place. 

In the summer of 1868, he with the family left Griggsville, and 
came to Decatur, Macon County, 111., where, at the age of 17 
years, David B., was apprenticed as a "devil" in a printing office — 
the Gazette and Chronicle, a Republican weekly, published by 
Captain William J. Usrey, a Civil War veteran. After working 
six months on this paper, he worked for Mr. Wm. H. Addis, on the 
Decatur Democrat, after that on the Decatur Review, and lastly 
on the Decatur Daili; Republican, published by Hamsher & Mos- 
ser. 

During his work on the Decatur papers, from 1868 to 1880, be- 
sides writing poems for the Chicago, Boston and New York papers, 
he also acted as a local correspondent for Chicago and St. Louis 
papers. 

He went to Chicago in the spring of 1882, and worked at his 
trade there until the fall of 1887, when he left for Fort Scott, Kan- 
sas, to take the formanship of the Fort Scott Daily Monitor, but 
after the expiration of a year he went from there to Kansas City, 
Mo., where he worked as a compositor on the Kansas City Times 
until the spring of 1891, when he returned to Chicago, where he 
has since worked at his trade in the leading job printing offices 



of the city, and also the book offices. 

For the past year and a half he was engaged as a compositor on 
one of the leading Chicago magazines, until June 13, 1920, when 
he ri signed his position, and has started a small printing plant of 
his own. 

Chicago, III., 1921 D. B. M. 



TO THE YOUTH 

'T'HE Youth, who 'mid harrassing cares, 

Shall strive to banish his gloomy fears, 
And bravely thro' fiery trials pass, 
Tho' thick they come, en masse,] 
Shall sooner or later gain the day, 
Tho' fools and scoffers 'round him bray. 
And ridicule him with idle jeers. 
While adding to them insulting sneers. 
He'll cast aside such worthless fools, 
While sense and judgment in him rules, 
And strive with all his power and might, 
To nobly hve, and battle for the right. 



y 



DECORATION-DAY POEMS 



THE HEROIC DEAD 

p^EST, ye heroes, sweetly rest, 

By a Nation fondly blest ; 
Who wrought victory from defeat, 
Brought the traitor to their feet ; 
A Nation's gratitude be your praise, 
Honored by the minstrel's lays. 

Fond, fair hands will garlands weave, 

On your silent tombs to leave 

As a token of their love, 

For brave souls now gone above. 

As the starry flag still waves 

O'er the sainted heroes' graves. 

Yours it was to do and die, 
Fearless sons of victory ; 
Yours it was to break the way 
For sweet Peace again to sway 
Her bright sceptre o'er our land, 
Saved by your departed band. 

Loyal hearts with reverence bring. 
As a simple otfering. 



10 DECORATION-DAY POEMS 



Flowers, fragrant, bright and fair, 
To each mound so silent there ; 
Deck each sacred spot oi those 
Honored by their vanquished foes. 

Freedom's sons, peacefully rest, 
As sweet flowers are fondly prest 
By fair hands upon each tomb. 
As like incense their perfume 
Rises softly on the air, 
Mingling with the breath of prayer. 



^5 
STAND BY OUR DEAD 

gxAND by our dead ! Ah, yes, we will ! 
What loyal soul would wish them ill ? 
Or cast upon the hero's name 
The brand of infamy and shame ? 
What paltry sums can ere repay 
Sweet Freedom's sons, who in the fray 
Sealed with their blood her righteous cause, 
And held inviolate her laws. 

Ah ! holy is the ground where lies 
A nation's loyal sacrifice ; 
The kindred of the sleeping braves 
Will never want, while Freedom waves 
Her blood-stained banner o'er our land. 
And true and just souls have command. 
With reverence, o'er each hero's grave, 
Scatter sweet flowers ! Our dead— the brave! 



DECORATION-DAY POEMS 11 



OUR SLEEPING HEROES 

"D EST you, brave sons, in sweet repose. 

For 'bove your graves still fondly glows 
In Heaven's bright sunlight, fair and free, 
The ensign of our liberty, 
Whose folds untrammeled kiss the breeze. 
As far aloft sweet melodies 
Throughout the boundless welkin ring. 
As voices of our heroes sing. 
Sweet Freedom bathes v/ith pearly tears 
The graves of her brave chevaliers, 
As, bending low her beauteous head, 
She weeps o'er her heroic dead. 

Sleep on ! For fond hearts, true and brave, 
Will wreath with flowers each soldier's grave, 
As, Uke sweet incense on the air. 
Voices ascend in silent prayer, 
Breathing a pure and holy love. 
Caught by winged seraphs from above ; 
As on th' eternal scroll of fame 
Glitters untarnished the hero's name ; 
As over land and over sea 
Still floats our flag so proud and free. 
Triumphant in sweet Freedom's cause. 
Defended by her righteous laws. 

Aye ! holy, tranquil be your rest, 

loyal sons, by Freedom blest ! 

Fair hands will wreath each hallow'd tomb 



12 DECORATION-DAY FOEMS 



With flowers, whose incense shall perfume 
The whisp'ring airs that softly sigh ' 
O'er those who did so bravely die ; 
A Nation's meed shall be your praise. 
God ! to Thee would fond hearts raise, 
In deep thanksgiving and in prayer, 
The name of those brave sleepers there ; 
Protect sweet Freedom, and may we be 
Forever free from tyranny. 



OUR SOLDIER BOYS 

o EVERENCE Still those brave defenders, honor to the sleepers 

brave ; 
Cover with fragrant flowers, adorning each lone, haliow'a 

soldier's grave ; 
Fearless they in time of battle, conquerors on the gory field. 
True to God, and home and country. Freedom's flag to ever 

shield. 
Naught can dim the lasting glory of the hero's deathless 

name, 
For upon his proud escutcheon resteth not the brand of 

shame. 
Mighty is the army sleeping in its lasting, long repose, 
Reverenced still with admiration, e'er alike by friends and foes. 

Still in a fond retrospection, I see ranks go filing by, 
As upon the breeze afloating comes the loud triumphant cry 
Of the conquerors home returning with a firm and martial 
tread, 



DECORATION-DAY POEMS 13 



Victory perched upon their banner as it proudly floats e'erhead; 
As in long and dim procession they pass by in grand review, 
Soldier boys — our noble heroes — wearing still the loyal blue. 
Hail ! thou fearless sons of Freedom ; still in memory thou 

shalt be 
Dear to all, with reverenced honored in the blest land of the 

free. 

When from Charleston first resounded the grim cannon's 

sullen roar, 
As the tocsin of war rebounded 'long the vast surf-beaten 

shore. 
And from center to circumference as if from an earthquake's 

shock, 
People started from their slumber, and en masse began to 

flock- 
How from shops and fields and hamlets came our sons to 

volunteer. 
Bid farewell to sister, mother, all they held to be most dear ; 
Go on to the field of battle, like brave souls to nobly die. 
O'er whose graves the flowers are blooming and the scattered 

roses lie. 

V/reath bright flowers as a fond token, on the soldier's tomb 

to place, 
For beneath that turf, a-resting, lies a true heart of his race, 
Which once beat with fond emotions to each dear and loving 

call 
Of the father, of the mother, of the sister, yet to fall ; 
Yet he fell a loyal hero, and as years shall glide away. 



14 DECORATION-DAY POEMS 



Some fond heart will ever cherish that sweet name as yet 

to-day ; 
As in dim-like retrospection still will rise in grand review 
Ranks of our brave boys a-marching in the honor'd loyal blue. 



THE BAND OF HEROES 

f\ SLEEPING braves, above your graves 

The emblem of the Free still waves. 
Sweet hd your rest, forever blest, 
valiant sons ! On Freedom's crest 
Your names in golden letters burn ; 
No traitor's nam^e we there discern. 

Above your graves sweet Freedom stands, 
With swinging censer in her hands. 
Whose perfumed incense floats above, 
Upon the snowy wings of Love ; 
With gaze aloft she sees her band 
Of heroes in th' Elysian Land. 

"Brave sons," she cries, "heroic band 
Of fair Columbia's blood-bought land ! 
Receive your meed — a Nation's praise. 
As on 3'our mounds doth rev'rence gaze ; 
As soft, fair hands weave garlands o'er 
The tombs of those whom I adore." 

Sleep on, ye brave ! No warlike din 



DECORATION-DAY POEMS 15 



No roar of cannon or culverin 

Breaks your repose ! Your foes draw near, 

The tombs of brave men to revere ; 

For there they see no brand of shame 

To tarnish your heroic name. 

Then wreath with flowers each hero's tomb, 
In beauty let them ever bloom 
Above the sleeping forms of those 
Who feared not death or dastard foes. 
As calmly sleeps the gallant band, 
Honor th' liberators of our land. 



16 IN MEMORIAM 



IN MEMORIAM 



ELLA WHEELER WILCOX 

This noted American poet passed away on October 30, 1819, after her' 
visit to England in regard to the Red Cross relief work of the European 
War, her death resulting from exposure to the weather. 

Che passed away like flowers at eve, 

From a world of sin and sorrow. 
Far better she, than we who grieve 

Oft' o'er a gloomy 'morrow ; 
Loved poet of Columbia's land, 

Now in that heavely land of bliss, 
Bright spirit with the angelic band 

From such a world as this. 

Well can Wisconsin point with pride,^ 

To her fair poet known to fame. 
Well can America e'er decide 

To honor her untarnished name ; 
Beloved by all who knew her well, 

Whose winning ways won hearts of all, 
As her influence with its magic spell, 

Did many souls with joy enthrall. 

Bright spirit in that Eden land. 



IN MEMORIAM 17 



Where perfumed flowers immortal grow, 
We yet shall greet thee on the strand 

Of the crystal sea with its shimmering glow, 
In God's eternal land of light, 

Where departed ones in concord meet, 
We'll hail thee, clothed in spotless white. 

Where joys will ever be complete. 

Garland with sweet flowers her sacred tomb. 

Well worthy she of all your praise. 
For Ufe eternal lights the gloom, 

As we our voices to Heaven raise ; 
Fond poet, we will not say farewell 

But goodbye, till w^e meet again, 
In the heavenly land, where loved ones dwell. 

As breathes sweet music's soft refrain. 



18 IN MEMORIAM 



GENERAL U. S. GRANT 

This distinguished General of the Civil War and tvyice President of the 
United States, died during the month of July, 1885. The following poem 
was written three months before his death. 

"DRAVE hero undaunted, by perils surrounding, 

Staunch patriot who fought for a proud Nation's weal, 
The foes of thy country defeating, confounding. 

Well may proud Columbia thy virtues reveal ; 
When the cannon's sullen roar from Charleston resounded . 

As the tocsin of war, for thy country's fair fame 
Sprang thou to the front, as thy trusty steed bounding 

Bore its chieftain to win a proud conqueror's name. 

Above thee v/aved the starry banner of Freedom, 

Unsullied and free, o'er brave boys in blue, 
Led on by their chieftain, as death's hail did rattle 

'Round brave, loyal souls, so fearless and true. 
'Mid the thunders of war thy voice was heard ringing 

Its clarion notes o'er the vast, gory field. 
Cheering on thy brave men, till Victory, a-winging, 

Cast her mantle on the hero who never would yield. 

From red fields of carnage the hero triumphant, 

Crowned with wreaths of victory to Columbia came. 
And she blest the brave warrior, and as Chief of the Nation 

He added greater luster to his bright star of fame. 
Proud Greece, haughty Rome may boast of their heroes, 

Foreign powers extol their heroes so brave. 
But Columbia can point with pride to her hero, 

Whose bright star will radiate beyond the dark grave. 



IN MEMORIAM 19 



Honor then to our nation's brave, gallant defender ; 

Resigned to life's ills he still is the same ; 
Heroic in affliction, and still uncomplaining, 

He smiles on his loved ones, tho' feeble life's flame. 
Death hath no terrors for heroes undaunted ; 

Come in what shape it may they stand to their arms, 
And brave their last foe with that calm, self-possession 

Which give them the victory and quell all alarms. 

Resplendent forever be thy bright star of glory, 

As the flag of thy country from sea unto sea 
Triumphantly waves o'er the homes of the freemen. 

As devotion to God softly whispers of thee. 
The great God of battles protect and defend thee, 

A Nation's devotion be thine evermore ; 
For dear to the heart of a Nation forever 

Will be the brave hero, when this life is o'er. 



20 IN MEMORIAM . _ 

EMMAABBOTT 

One of America's celebrated opera singers who died at Salt Lake City, 
Utah, January 5, 1891. 

pAREWELL ! sweet and lovely singer, 
Loved by all who knew thee well, 
Thy fond spirit ne'er shall linger 

Longer with its magic spell 
On life's stage, to cheer the weary, 

When thy voice with sweet refrain 
Sounded o'er life's pathway dreary, 

Songs we'd love to hear again. 

Dead ! ah, no, but softly sleeping, 

For above in Heaven's pure light. 
Where sweet eyes unknown to weeping 

Greet that land of God so bright— 
Her bright spirit lisps the praises 

Of one great eternal love. 
Peace to thy ashes jieath the daisies 

Spirit in God's home above. 

Other harps may sound thy praises, 

Other voices sweetly tell 
Of the fair ones 'neath the daisies 

Who once wrought the magic spell ; 
Yet one harp is silent lying. 

Still the sweet and warbling tongue, 
As the crimson day is dying. 

With its joyful songs unsung. 



IN MEMORIAM 21 



Bring bright wreaths of fairest roses, 

Deck earth's monumental shrine 
To her memory, who reposes 

Sacred, pure, and now divine. 
In the palace, cottage lowly, 

Souls will lisp thy name in prayer, 
As with angels, pure and holy, 

Thou their joys v/ith them wilt share. 

Fare-thee-well ! in joy or sorrow. 

Sweet to all will be thy name ; 
As apace comes each to-morrow. 

On the dazzling scroll of fame- 
All will read of thy devotion, 

Virtues crowned, with sv/eet success, 
'Mid a world of dire commotion, 

And thy name to ever bless. 



22 IN MEMORIAM 



JAMES G. BLAINE — "THE WHITE PLUMED KNIGHT" \ 



\ 



It was at the Republican National Convention, held at Cincinnati, in the 
fall of 1884, that Col. Robert G. Ingersoll nominated James G. Blaine for 
President of the United States, and in an eloquent speech, called him 
"The White Plumed Knight." 

xpARE-THEE-wELL ! in all tliy glory ; tho' thy golden star hath set, 
Tho' Death claims himself a victor, and a Nation's eyes are 

wet 
With its tears at thy departure, yet thy star again will rise 
Fairer yet, and still more radiant in God's fair, celestial skies, 
Ah ! thy name it was a magic, and thy fame went on bsfore 
Echoing down life's winding pathway, 'long Time's dim and 

misty shore ; 
Knight of sweet and holy Freedom, champion of her sacred laws. 
In the forum nobly standing, to defend her righteous cause. 

In the halls of legislation oft' thy voice rose to defend 
Rights of a united people, as their staunch and steadfast friend ; 
Champion of impartial justice, pillar of a Nation's power, 
Victor in life's great arena in the dark and trying hour. 
Can a Nation e'er forget thee ? Can it add much to thy praise? 
When at eve the sun is setting, and its bright and golden rays 
Tinge thy grave with radiant glory, as the flowers above it there 
Shed their fragrance in the twilight o'er the sleeper in God's 
care, 



Wreathe bright flowers for the great patriot, Freedom's true ] 

and loyal son; .! 

Let them breathe of fond devotion, of his great work nobly done ; j 



IN MEMORIAM 23 



Nations all may laud their heroes, praise their valiant deeds 

of fame, 
Yet here lies a chieftain valiant, and all hearts revere his name 
Back into the bygone ages sv/ift the years may onward glide. 
Thrones may totter, nations perish, yet that name will still abide 
Pure, unsullied, wreathed in glory, as is heard the sweet refrain 
From the lips of true hearts ever, breathing the sainted name 

of Blaine. 

Fare-thee-weli ! Oh noble statesman. Knight of Freedom, true 

and brave. 
In thy deeds a Nation glories, for thy life a hjstre gave 
To the greatness of Columbia, to a Nation's spreading fame, 
Fanned the dying spark of courage into proud ambition's flame. 
With a Clay and with a Webster, shall thy name exalted be ; 
From the great storm-swept Atlantic to Pacific's quiet sea, 
Down the ages ever-ringing still will come the sweet refrain 
Of a Nation's fondest praises with the name of James G. Blaine. 



24 IN MEMORIAM 



MARIE LITTA 

Marie Eugenie Von Eisner, whose stage name was "Litta," was a 
celebrated American opera singer, in English and Italian opera. She was a 
resident of Bloomington, Illinois. She passed away July 8, 1883, at 26 years 
of age, at her home in Bloomington. 

/^ooDBYE ! sweet and lovely singer, 
Ail who knew thee, loved thee well, 

As thy voice e'er sweet and dear, 
Chimed its music like silvery bell ; 

And with Nilsson and with Kellogg, 
Thou has vied and often sang, 

And enthusiastic was your greeting, 

As the great hall with plaudits rang. 

Still adown Time's aisles a-ringing, 

Comes thy voice from out the past, 
To our souls is ever singing, 

As hfe's sunset shadows cast 
Its twilight softly o'er our pathway, 

As we near fair Eden's goal, 
And the light of an eternal day 

Greet us in the blest home of the soul, 



IN MEMORIAM 25 



GENERAL JOHN A. LOGAN 

A disiirguished Civil War General, and twice United States Senator from 
Illinois. He was ncminated for Vice-President on the Republican ticket with 
James G. Blaine for President, at the Republican National Convention held 
at Cincinnati, in November, 1884. Ke was also the originator of "Decoration 
Day." 

Q'ER FALLEN herocs nations weep, 

And Freedom bathes with tears 
Each hallow a tomb of those who sleep — 

True heroes of the bygone years. 
So with thee, Logan, soldier brave, 

Great statesman of our native land, 
Hallow'd to all shall be thy grave. 

For great was thy true heart and hand. 

When thundered the cannon's sullen roar, 

And sprang brave sons to arms, 
\s war-clouds spread the country o'er, 

And heralded forth war's loud alarms — 
Then came he at his country's call. 

With brave boys dressed in Union blue; 
The starry flag floating o'er all, 

With loyal hearts still firm and true. 

On many a vast and gory field 

Freedom's brave sons he led 
On, on to victory ! — to shield 

Her righteous cause they bled. 
Thro' iron hail he led the way 



26 IN MEMORIAM 



Against a brave and daring foe ; 
With his brave "boys" he won the day, 
Proud tyranny to overthrow. 

A Nation mourns thee, Logan, brave, 

And Freedom's pearly tears 
Falls softly on her hero's grave— 

A hero of departed years. 
And generations yet to be 

Will gather 'round the hero's tomb, 
And think of him who fought to free 

And save a Nation 'mid its gloom. 

Rest thee in peace, Columbia's son ! 

Thine was a mission great and grai^d ; 
And of the millions there is none 

Can with disgrace thy fair name brand ; 
None can by praise add to thy fame. 

When thy face is shadow'd by death's pall ; 
For thy deeds tell the greatness of thy name, 

Thou who hast triumphed over all. 



IN MEMORIAM 27 

LAWRENCE BARRETT 

A celebrated American tragedian who died in the spring of 1891. 

nPHE curtain has fallen forever on life's stage ; 

A great star hath set ! Yet on history's page 
Its light will still shine with a luminous glow, 
Tho' here in the flesh we shall miss him below. 

0, Tragedy ! thou hast lost one of thy brightest stars ; 
Yet it is not confined by Death's gloomy bars ; 
It has risen again in a higher blest sphere, 
Tho' oft' may be shed sweet Memory's fond tear. 

The melancholy Dane,* the great Cardinal,* 
The man of iron, nerve, a King over all— 
Was Barrett in life ; an indomitable will. 
Subtlety of thought, of superior skill, 

A disciple of Euripides, yet far in advance 
Of the father of tragedy in power, elegance, 
A victor in the arena, a master of art, 
Was this generous, noble and enduring heart. 

Proud Greece, haughty Rome, behold in this man 
A scholar, a master ; all Europe can scan 
His clear spotless record, and his genius as well, 
And with America sadly murmur : "True friend, fare-thee- 
well!" 

♦Hamlet. *Richelieu. 



28 IN MEMORIAM 



JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY 

This distinguished poet passed away in the month of July, 1916. 

ta;^reathe with sweet flowers the poet's tomb, 

In beauty let them ever bloom ; 
Silent the harp, its chords unstrung, 
Yet its music breathed by an immortal tongue, 
Still down the aisles of Time will chime. 
Echoing o'er the dark'ning shores of Time, 
With music from the eternal shore, 
From loved ones now gone on before 

From Indiana's wooded dell, 
And the sylvan scenes he loved so well, 
From rustic homes of fond retreat, 
Siiall souls still e'er his songs repeat. 
And the autumn leaves will softly fall, 
As the harvest songs again recall 
The sweet old days of Long Ago, 
Which the poet loved so well to know. 

The years may come, the years may go, 
But him we loved, so well to know, 
Shall breathe his music to us still, 
At balmy eve, our hearts to thrill, 
And o'er this land, from sea to sea, 
James Whitcomb Riley's name shall be 
A household word, to all e'er dear, 
As we journey on to the Better Sphere. 



IN MEMORIAM 29 



WILLIAM Mckinley 

President of the United States, assassinated Sept. 6, 1901, died Sept. 14, 1901 

A NATION mourns thee, with grief sincere, 
To loyal hearts forever dear 
Thy name will bright remain ; 
As Freedom's emblem waves o'er all 
May we with love and pride recall 
Those days our soldiers like a wall 

Guarded its folds from stain ; 
When thou above the clouds of war 
Rose as a bright and radiant star, 

Shall Anarchy now rule our land. 

Blood-bought by each heroic band, 
That Peace might dwell secure? 

Nay, God forbid ! Our land* shall be 

A haven of rest, where all are free 

To serve their God, from sea to sea- 
Forever to endure, 

Till Time no more shall toll his bell— 

For Christ, our Lord, doth all things well ! 

Rest thou in peace, Columbia's son, 
God's will in all things e'er is done. 

Though deep our grief may be ; 
Dwell thou with God forevermore. 
As down Time's dim and sounding shore 
We travel on, may we adore 

And serve our God like thee ; 
Bring lilies with full hands for him we love, 
Whose soul now rests in peace with God above ! 



30 IN MEMORIAM 



TO TENNYSON 

" But 0, for the touch of a vanished hand, 
And the sound of a voice that is still."— Tennyson. 

Lone thy harp is silent lying, Poet great, a-waning, dying, ^^ 

Each successive day is gliding back into the buried past ; 

As enchanting paths Tm roaming, I can see from out the 

gloaming. 

Visions bright, spirits immortal, cast a halo round thy 

tomb; 

Fairy visions wreaths are placing 'round that name where 

naught defacing 

E'er can banish from the memory bright thoughts that 

immortal bloom; 

Like sweet flowers to heaven transplanted, to that dream- ■■> 

land sphere enchanted, 1 

They will leave a lasting fragrance In earth's darksome i 

vale below ; ; ^ 

There by bright and flowing rivers, where the golden sun- ■ i 

light quivers \ 

On their clear and placid waters, in God's vast, eternal ; 

land, i 1 

Thy fond spirit ever lingers, as the touch of fairy fingers \ j 

Press thy brow with loving touches in the bright and ! ] 

crimson glow. j j 

; I 

Chivalrous knight of song ! Ascending, on the air, and ever i I 

blending i j 

Voices of great nations rising, do thee homage now in ; j 

song ; i j 



IN MEMORIAM 31 



Many were the lances broken by thy noble deeds outspoken, 
In the tilt of the great tourney, witnessed by the royal 
throng ; 
As brave knights in armor gleaming, with their pennons 
gayly streaming, 
Came like thunderbolts together in the great arena there ! 
Thou hast sung of empires swaying, and in dust at last 
decaying, 
Brave knights dying in their glory, with their fair loves 
weeping near, 
Yet thy harp is lonely lying, as the breezes softly sighing, 
Breathe sweet requiems thro' its chords for thy great 
departed soul ; 
Thou hast well fought life's great battle, heard the thunders 
'round thee rattle, 
In the end to prove a victor, and hast reached thy des- 
tined goal. 



32 IN MEMORIAM 



TO ALICE POWERS 



Daughter of Orlando Powers, of Decatur, Illinois. She died in the month 
of April, 1878. This poem is respectfully dedicated to her relatives. 

goFTLY o'er thy sacred tomb 

Beautiful one, let flowers bloom ; 
Breezes, moaning, 'bove thee sigh ; 
On thy mound doth softly lie 
Dewy tears from Heaven above, 
O'er the form of her we love. 

Far above, 0, spirit bright ! 
'Mid the heavenly fields of light, 
Thou dost greet the holy throng, 
As the sweet seraphic song 
Echoes through th' ethereal dome. 
Welcoming thy advent home. 

Beyond this dark'ning vale of tears,^ 
Beyond this sphere of doubts and fears, 
Where the beautiful gates ajar 
Gleam Hke the lustrous morning star— 
Cloth'd in garments whiter than snow 
Waiting thou art for those below. 

And there beside the crystal sea, 
Where sounding harps ring glad and free. 
Where waves kiss softly the golden strand 
Of the beautiful shores of Eden's land— 
The parted ones again shall meet. 
And with clasp'd hands each other greet. 



IN MEMORIAM 



GENERAL W. T. SHERMAN 

One of the leading Generals of the Civil War, who was equal to General 

Grant in that great war. 

> 

r\ GREAT commander, now at rest, 

Brave, loyal son, by Freedom blest. 
Grim Death alone could conquer thee. 
Yet thy brave foes from sea to sea 
Will honor still the hero's name 
Who saved sweet Freedom's flag from shame. 
The hero who ne'er harbor'd fear, 
Whose name to all will e'er be dear. 

No bugle blast will wake the dead. 
Nor cannon's roar or martial tread, 
No martial band, victorious cheer. 
Will rouse the hero sleeping here ; 
Whose famous march 'neath flag so free. 
From old Atlanta to the sea, 
With his brave boys, e'er tried and true, 
Will still pass by in grand review. 

Beat on your march unto the grave. 
Muffled and solemn, unto the brave, 
For that brave soul who knew no fear 
Lies calmly sleeping on his bier ; 
Gaze on the hero, who in war 
Rose like a bright and flashing star. 
And thro' dark wreaths of battle smoke, 
With furious charge the phalanx broke, 
Of a great, brave, undaunted foe, 
'Mid storms of shot and saber's blow. 



34 IN MEMORIAM 



Where are the heroes, who in war, 
Whose each and bright illustrious star, 
Rose o'er the war clouds of our land, 
Each with their brave, heroic band ? 
Grant, Logan, Sheridan, great each name, 
Hancock, McClellan, and others of fame, 
And last of all great Sherman lies 
Now still at rest 'mid a Nation's sighs. 

On battle-fields with crimson gore, 
His stalwart form is seen no more ; 
When his loud voice like a clarion rang, 
As the deadly missiles 'round him sang 
Their songs of death, as above him there 
Glistening and waving in Southern air. 
The Stars and Stripes floated proud and free 
In Sherman's great march unto* the sea. 

Rest thou, brave hero ; no warlike din, 
No roar of cannon or culverin 
Will break the hero's last repose, 
Who feared not death or dastard foes. 
Fire the last salute, and as the prayer 
Of fond devotion is oflered there, 
Know that his great, untarnished name 
Still glitters on the scroll of fame. 



IN MEMORIAM 35 



TO ALICE S 



Q BRIGHT and happy days of yore, 

When first I met thee, Alice, fair, 
Whe the golden sunlight shone softly o'er 

Our heads, as bright birds caroled there, 
In the leafy trees by the brick church near, 

Where oft' we came to worship God, 
When together we bowed our heads in prayer, 

To tread those paths we've so often trod, 

Thine eyes to me shone like bright stars 

In yon bright heaven's vaulted blue. 
Whose light shot forth soft silvery bars 

To cheer my soul. To be with you 
Was oft' my heart's one pure desire, 

As thy sweet voice like music low . 
Filled my young soul with holy fire, 

In those blest days of the Long Ago. 

'Twas in the spring-tide of youth we met. 

Thy face to me was sweet and fair ; 
My soul, ah ! never can forget 

The happy hours spent with thee there ; 
'Twas heaven to me when thou wert near, 

Thy voice was music to my soul, 
Like an angel to me thon didst appear. 

My restless soul to e'er control. 

Yet Fate thus doomed fond hearts to part. 
Another claimed the hand of thine ; 



36 IN MEMORIAM 



And darkness filled my sighing heart, 
To know that thou couldst ne'er be mine. 

Long years passed by e'er again we met, 
And then, alas ! on a couch of pain 

I met thee, and with deep regret 
Saw thy fair life fast on the wane. 

I clasp'd thy hand, gazed in thine eyes. 

For beautiful to me, ah ! wast thou still. 
Ready to depart to fairer skies. 

Resigned to God's holy will ; 
I breathed to thee of Heaven above, 

I vowed to clasp hands with thee there, 
To meet where souls will ever love. 

In God's sweet Eden-land so fair. 

Thy beautiful spirit soon took its flight. 

And oft' alone at eve I weep, 
Ai I think of thee in the stilly night, 

As the stars their, silent vigils keep. 
O'er thy grassy mound let the roses bloom, 

Above thy fair form in sacred repose ; 
Aye ! loved ones will meet beyond the dark tomb. 

Free at last from life's sorrows and woes. 



IN MEMORIAM 37 



TO MY MOTHER 

She passed away August 20, 1900. ten years after this poem was written. 

poND mother, thy years are measur'd till they're three score 

and ten, 
And thy children have grown to be women and men, 
Yet thy love is the same as life's autumn appears. 
And shed its soft light o'er the past buried years. 
Ah ! fierce has been life's battle, ana toilsome the way, 
As hardships and privations in one long array 
Fell to thee as thy portion, to with poverty contend, 
As the child looked to the mother as its only true friend. -► 

Far adown the dim sounding aisles of time 
O'er monuments of the past, in melody chime 
Voices of thy fair youth, as in fancy's fond dream 
Thou'rt gliding again down youth's sunny stream. 
Little then didst thou know of the trials and cares. 
The heart-aches, privations, the sorrows and tears 
That fell to thy portion, as the years came apace 
And passed by forever into fathomless space. 

Thy sweet smile is the same, though chast'ning the rod. 
For thy faith is still firm in Israel's great God, 
Who ever is with thee to save and defend. 
To list to thy prayer as it upward ascend, 
Like incense to rise to the great, golden throne, 
As thou in devotion thy petition make known. 
Thy gray hairs are sacred, as the oncoming years 
Bring their smiles and joys, their sorrows and tears. 



38 IN MEMC^IAM 



0, may thy last days be the sweetest and best, 
Ere thou enter at last into that God-given rest, 
And the sunset of life shed a bright golden glow, 
To catch a sweet foretaste of that heaven below. 
Thongh age come apace, and the end draweth nigh. 
There awaiteth for thee beyond yon blue- vaulted sky 
A land of delight, where may we all meet, 
Forever with God in that Eden retreat. 



IN REMEMBRANCE 

"poRGET thee ? Nay ! while Memory sway 

Her regal sceptre o'er this clay, . 
Thy loving vision will haunt me still, 
Rove where my wand'ring footsteps will ; 
And, though the soul may sadly sigh 
When thoughts of happy days gone by. 
With fairy visions in their train. 
Greet me with scenes of yore again. 
Yet will remembrance fondly claim 
A lasting place for thy fair name. 

Light and shadow alternate fall. 
And lighten or darken the lives of all. 
Yet, though dark clouds awhile appear, 
Heaven still to us can yet be near 
If we but know that hearts are true 
As yonder sky of heaven's fair blue ; 
But know that hearts tho' sundered far, 
Are steadfast, true as Bethlehem's star, 
And thro, life's storm-clouds dark and drear. 
Soul breathes to soul, "Thou still art near." 



IN MEMORIAM 39 



TO INEZ 



COFTLY sleeping 'neath the daisies 
Lies thy form in sweet repose ; 

Sweetly would I sing ihy praises- 
Spirit free from all life's woes. 

Though life's gloom about me gather, 
As I wend this vale of tears, 

Yet life's ills I'll bravely weather, 
For thy vision ever cheers. 

Flowers of life bloom but to wither, 

And their fragrance incense rare 
Seeks that land beyond th« river 

Where bend golden skies so fair. 
There thy spirit basks forever 

In the light of love divine; 
There fond hearts no more shall sever, 

Souls shall not in sorrow pine. 

Oft' at eve, as lone I wander. 

As the blushing skies doth gleam, 
O'er the bygone days to ponder. 

O'er bright, happy scenes to dream- 
Sadness throws her mantle 'round mc, 

As the dreamy stars appear. 
As my eyes gaze but to miss thee, 

Yet thy vision still is near. 

Ah, with reverence would I utter 
Thy fair name to all below. 



40 IN MEMORIAM 



As life's storm-clouds 'round me mutter 
Thunders o'er a world of woe. 

Still to me comes thy fair vision 
Robed in beauty and in loVe ; 

In bright golden fields Elysian X. 
Breathe thou of that bliss above. 



EMMA STEWART BROWN 
She was the first wife of Mr. I. E. Brown, of Decatur, Illinois. 

CHE passed away, like flowers at eve, 

From a world of sin and sorrow ; 
Her's is the joy, though we may grieve, 

And dark may seem the 'morrow; 
For angels bright, on wings of love. 
Have borne her to that Home above. 

The sun was sinking in the west 

In its couch of rosy slumber. 
As we gently laid her down to rest — 

A loved one of our number ; 
And with the angels a spirit bright 
Greeted a land of sweet dehght. 

And softly o'er the crystal sea 
Glad harps are sweetly ringing, 



IN MEMORIAM 41 



Fair Eden's sweetest minstrelsy, 
With choirs of angels singing ; 
And on those bright and golden strands, 
So lovely still, with God she stands. 

From out that home of light above, 
Down the aisles of time a-ringing— 

The voice of her we ever love 
Still to the soul is singing, 

As she fondly waits for those below. 

At the pearly gates, with heart aglow. 

Ah, yes, aglow with a love divine, ^ 
As harps are still resounding ; 

Where lights divine ne'er cease to shine, 
Toward which our souls are bounding 

Exultant, free, o'er life's dark sea. 

To home and heaven, God and thee. 



42 IN MEMORIAM 



GERHARDT SCHICK 

Prof. Gerhardt Schick was a noted linguist and poet. He taught seven or 
eight different languages, and resided at Decatur, Illinois, about 1878. Too 
much overwork and study drove him insane, and he died in the Insane Asy- 
lum at Jacksonville, Illinois, May 5, 1879. 

P'AREWELL ! a sad farewell to thee, 

Departed friend ! O'er life's dark sea 
Thy glimmering sail is lost to view ; 
To all of earth thou hast bid adieu, 
I stand on Time's surf-beaten shore. 
Yet Gerhardt's sail I'll see no more. 

What sad, unhappy fate was thi"e ! 
Who woo'd with love the sacred Nine, 
And roamed the reals of the Ideal, 
Where low, sweet music did softly steal 
Upon the ear ; as unseen faces fair 
Press'd thy pale brow sadden'd with care. 

Why should the soul e'er weep for those 
Who slumber now in sweet repose, 
Free from the strife, the woe and sin. 
When immortality they win ? 
0, son of song ! may light divine 
Welcome with joy the soul of thine. 

Adieu ! a last adieu to thee ! 
Oh ! by the flowing crystal sea. 
May thou breathe of that hallow'd bliss 
Found not in such a world as this ; 
As softly o'er thy hallow'd tomb 
Bend unseen visions 'mid the gloom. 



IN MEMORIAM 43 



OH! WHERE ART THOU, MY BROTHER? 

Dr. William M. Metcalf. a brother of the author, and a Civil War veteran, 
passed away at New Albany, Indiana. December 29, 1914. 

QH ! WHERE art thou, my brother ? 
Art thou lying low 
Where the daisies grow, 

And the clods of the valley for a cover ? 

On this New Year's day, 

In my sadness I pray. i 

And my soul, it is sighing and weeping 

Tho' thy soul is above 

With those that we love, 
And a just God hath thee in his keeping. 

My restless soul would fain soar away, 

To be with thee, my brother, 

With thee, and with mother. 
To join thee in realms of endless day, 

As lone, I am sighing. 

As the day, it is dying. 
And the river of Time flows down to the sea. 

As my heart throbs, a-beating. 

Still, still is repeating 
When shall I greet sweet Heaven and thee ? 

Oh ! where art thou, my brother ? 

The place where you rest. 

By angels now blest, 
A sacred green mound like that of my mother, 



44 IN MEMORIAM 



I e'er will revere it, 

Tho' I may not be near it, ^ 

Thy image engraven remain in my breast. 

Tho' my soul, it is weeping, 

I know in the keeping 
Of Jesus, our Lord, thou art now with the blest. 



Tho' in sadness I wander j 

I e'er still will love j 

Thee, my brotheE above, ;i 

For I know thou livest up yonder 

'Bove the bright, starry blue, j 

Where dwells the good and the true. 

Where loved ones ne'er part, forever to dwell, 
And on this New Year's day. 
As in silence I pray, 

I know that in Heaven all yet will be well. 



IN MEMORIAM 45 



MRS. ALICE SPINK 

She was formerly Miss Alice Smith, of Decatur, Illinois, daughter of Ben- 
jamin Smith, a noted Decatur lawyer. She passed away at her home in 
Clinton, Illinois, September 11, 1896, 

npHE shades of night hath come at last, 

To herald that eternal rest, 
Spirit beloved. This life is past, 

Thou'rt With Jesus, forever blest. 
A sweet transition from earth below 

To God's bright home above, 
Where beautiful still, we yet will know 

The sister we so fondly love. 

Oh, bright and happy days of yore 

When first we met thee, when so fair 
Thou spoke of Jesus gone before, 

To thy little scholars, listening there 
With wrapt attention to thy voice, 

As it echoed like music to their ears ; 
Oft' hath it made my soul rejoice 

When I recall those bygone years. 

Since then thy course thro' good or ill. 

Hath been like God's bright guiding star, 
Thy Christian mission to fulfill, 

Shedding a sweet influence near and far. 
Thro' suffering, sorrow, pain and care. 

Thy noble soul is still the same. 
Nor e'en can death cause thee to fear, 

For saved art thou in Jesus' name. 



46 IN MEMORIAM 



Oh, beautiful spirit ! In that land 

Of pure delight we yet will clasp 
Thy loving hands and with thee stand 

Saved from the grim destroyer's grasp. 
We'll think of Alice, when at eve 

We kneel to God in reverent prayer ; 
Oh, why should the soul in sorrow grieve, 

For we'll meet her with Jesus, "over there." 



SWEET FACES FAIR 

t\/'here'er I am, where'er I go. 

Sweet faces fair still haunt me so — 
Dear vanished faces of the past, 
'Round each a heavenly halo cast, 
Gone from earth's sorrowing vale below 
To that land where all blest spirits go ; 
And oft' at eve, when all is still. 
My soul with rapture for them thrill. 

Sweet faces fair, engraven there 
On my heart, as I kneel in silent prayer, 
How I love them, as I wend my way 
Toward that land of endless day ; 
Loved ones whose influence yet I feel, 
As low sweet music seems to steal 
Softly o'er my senses from the spirit land. 
As I feel the touch of a caressing hand. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 47 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



PROVE YOURSELF A MAN 

IN every trial, care or storm 

That may assail you oft' and long, 
When dark disaster's dread alarm 

Doth oft' bring forth its funeial song; 
When the surges of affliction roll 

And you see. the glimpse of life's short span, 
Despair not, though grieved thy soul. 

But ever prove yourself a man ! 

Temptations great will oft' assail 

The weak and strong of humankind, 
And many hearts, though stout, shall quail 

'Neath the assaults upon the mind— 
And fierce and long they oft' will be. 

Some dreaded, and a noxious ban, 
Then hold your ground and do not flee, 

But ever prove yourself a man ! 

If through life's rough, uneven way 
Thy steps should falter, and despair 



48 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

Should seize thee in life's fray, 
And you a victim doth declare ; 

When thy hfe seems dark and drear, 
And no clear sky you can scan, 

Be faithful — brood no fear, 
But ever prove yourself a man ! 



Though dark the clouds in time of storm 

There is clear sky beyond ; 
Though here oppressed by adversity's arm, 

Time soon shall break the bond'; 
Then bear up nobly 'gainst the tide 

That sweeps against our van, 
The arm Omnipotent will guide. 

Then prove yourself a man ! 



THOSE THAT I LOVED 

'T'HOSE that I loved have passed away, 

And I am left alone to-day, 
Like one deserted in a banquet hall, 
Where once sweet music did softly fall, 
And fairy forms glide to and fro 
In the bright and happy Long Ago. 
But those loved ones have passed away, 
And I am left alone to-day, 
But sweet the thought, we'll meet again 
On Heaven's bright, eternal plain. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS _J9 



THE RUSTIC COTTAGE 

rpELL me, cannot souls be happy 

In the rustic cottage there. 
As in costly, gilded palace 

Of the lordly millionaire ? 
Though no rare and costly paintings 

Deck the plain and simple walls, 
'Round the humble hearthstone ever 

God's bright, glorious sunlight falls 
On fond souls, who murmur never, 

Blest within those cottage walls. 

'Tis not wealth nor gaudy splendor 

That brings happiness to the soul ; 
Nor proud Fame's best envied token 

Which warms hearts when they are old, 
But the sweet, fond love of others. 

Which will shed bright, heavenly rays 
O'er earth's dark'ning vale of sorrow, 

In our swift, declining days; 
Breathe to us a brighter 'morrow, 

As we fervently breath our praise. 

Sweet the songs that have ascended 
From the little cottage there. 

As at eve they rose and blended 
With the anthems in the air 

Of bright angels— as above them 
Decked was heaven's starry dome 



50 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



With the myriad worlds of splendor 
As they sung of "Home, Sweet Home." 

Sung the soul's sweet song of rapture; 
Then did Joy on swift wings come. 

Fond hearts in the cottage lowly, 

Though but simple be their fare, 
Breathe a love that's pure and holy, 

Found not with the millionaire. 
Though they own no lordly treasure. 

Or a gilded palace fair, 
Yet their joy— it knows no measure — 

Their grand mansion is— 'over there" 
From the humble, rustic cottage 

Rises sweet incense of holy prayer. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 51 



IN REMEMBRANCE 

T^HEN the soft, sad winds moan 'bove my tomb. 
When on the green mound sweet roses bloom, 
When out the dark past sweet visions arise. 
Which are bound to thee by close, loving ties, 
And unseen spirits are hovering near thee— 
Remember me. 

As you pensively stray to the city of the dead, 
As with reverence its still sacred ground you tread. 
As you prayerfully gaze on each silent mound 
'Neath which the ashes of a loved one are found, 
And you lovingly think of the soul that is free— 
Remember me. 

And when thy sweet eyes to heaven are cast. 
As vanished faces of the misty past 
In Memory's bright mirror you behold. 
Whose feet are softly treading streets of gold. 
Who are standing beside the crystal sea— 
Remember me. 

Then as the dews of heaven shall fall, 
And bathe with tears the wounds of all — 
How sweet to know that thou'lt be near, 
And bless my grave with a fond tear. 
And as my soul fondly waits for thee 
Remember me. 



52 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



TO ONE IN HEAVEN 

A T HUSH of Plight, when all is still, 

And heaven's bright dome glitters with stars ; 
When sainted visions my being thrill 
Who float 'bove Phoebus' golden bars— 
Methinks I see thy sainted face, 
As yon ethereal worlds I trace^ 
And the same sweet smile 
Doth my soul beguile 
As when thou walked earth's vale below, 
And life was in its youthful glow. 

In contemplation. Love, I stand. 

Wrapped in enchantment's golden dream, 
As 'mid yon bright, seraphic band, 
I see thy form celestial gleam ; 

\s those bright eyes of thine afar, 

More bright to me than glittering star 

So divinely shine 

On this soul of mine ; 
And thy cheek is flush'd with beauty's soft glow. 
Oh, spirit, too pure for false hearts below. 

Softly adown the aisles of Time 

Angelic whispers, sweet and low 
Come wafted from a fairer clime 
In soft and pure pathetic flow 

And 'mid those whispers I can hear 
Thy voice so musical and clear, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 53 

Whispering a love 1 

Only known above 
To sainted souls ; and thy vision near 
In celestial radiance appear. 



EVER TRUE 

■poND hearts still will love thee ever, 
Friendship's tie they ne'er will sever, 

Tho' the death-damps o'er thee gather, 
We'll be constant to the end ; 

For to all thou art a blessing, 

With a love that is caressing, 

And tho' trials hard are pressing. 
Hearts will aid and comfort lend. 

O'er Ufe's dark and storm-toss'd ocean 
Billows rise in fierce commotion, 
Yet fond hearts with true devotion 

Will yet linger near thee still ; 
For brave souls will fear no danger ; 
He who once came as a stranger, 
Born within a lowly manger. 

Subjects all unto His will. 



54 MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS 

i 

THEY ARE WAITING 

'T'HEY are waiting ! they are waiting ! 

Loved ones by the jasper sea, 
In their white and snowy garments, 
Waiting there for thee and me. 

By the golden gates they're waiting, 
Of that Eden-land so fair, 

Cheering the pilgrim on his journey 
Through the land of dark despair. 

Down the aisles of Time a-ringing. 
Softly through their somber gloom. 

Spirit voices their way are winging : 
"There is light beyond the tomb." 

Waiting ever, fondly waiting ! 

As adown Time's rapid stream 
Our frail barks are swiftly gliding 

To that land of which we dream. 

By the pearly gates they're standing. 

Golden harps are in their hands, 
As life's weary ones are landing 

On those bright and golden sands. 

They're waiting, yes. they're waiting— 
Vanished faces gone before— 

With outstretched arms to greet us 
As we hail that golden shore. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 55 



BEYOND 

A WAKE from thy sorrows, 

Why this anguish and pain ? 
Tis care that oft' borrows 

To madden the brain ; 
Heaven's soft rays are beaming 

To lighten the soul ; 
In sorrow cease dreaming. 

Let peace now control. 

Cease, cease thy lamenting. 

Oh, sorrowing heart ! 
Let naught be preventing 

Sweet bliss to impart ; 
There now is a-gleaming ! 

Thro' the dark, somber night 
A light that is streaming 

From the great Infinite. 

Oh, soul ! cease thy mourning ! 

For there lies above 
(Which angels are adorning) 

The Home that you love ; 
Sweet harps are resounding 

Through Heaven's high dome, 
A"d hearts are rebounding 

To welcome thee Home. 



56 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



BRIGHT SPIRIT OF HOPE 

"DRiGHT spirit, come hither, 
Let our hopes ne'er wither ; 

Breathe thou now upon us the breath of thy love ; 
From thy fair brow a-streaming 
Heaven's soft rays are beaming, 

Foretelling the bliss of that fair land above. 

As a fond loving token 

To hearts nearly broken, 
Ttiou givest a true friendship that ever will last ; 

In joy or in sorrow, 

Bright or gloomy the 'morrow, 
Ah ! still thou'rt with us 'mid life's howling blast. 

Bright spirit, come hither ; 

The wreath ne'er shall wither 
That encircles thy fair and most beautiful brow; 

With a loving devotion 

O'er life's stormy ocean, 
Our hearts still art with thee, and true is our vow. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 57 



'NEATH THE DAISIES 

'^EATH the daisies thou'rt sleeping, 

Loving one, tender and true, 
While above thee softly weeping. 

Souls thy grave in silence view ; 
Thy fond heart gently reposes 

In that long and quiet rest, 
While the sweet and fragrant roses 

Fondly press thy peaceful breast, 

In a dreamless sleep thou'rt lying 

'Neath the whisp'ring flowers above, 
As the moaning breeze is sighing 

'Bove her we so fondly love. 
When the shades of eve are falling 

To thy mound would we draw near, 
Oft' our souls in sorrow calling ; 

"Oh, sweet spirit, now appear," 

Ah ! our souls doth sadly miss thee. 

Yet we know beyond the tomb 
Hearts again will yet caress thee. 

Where sweet flowers immortal bloom. 
As thy voice, so softly singing. 

Echoes thro' sweet heaven's dome. 
Holy anthems are a-winging 

Praises of our final home. 

'Neath the daisies softly rest thee, 
Fondly will we breathe in prayer 



58 ' MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Thy sweet name, and ever bless thee, 
Angel of that land so fair ; 

Softly let brig,ht angels whisper 
To thee their sweet notes of love. 

As below each loving lisper 
Wafts thy name to Heaven above. 



FALLING LEAVES 

corrLY fall ! dright fading leaves ! 

Yet my soul with sadness grieves 
When I see thee from on high 
Low descend, on earth to lie. 
Whispering softly, sad and low, 
As the moaning wind doth blow 
Plaintively thro' the forest trees. 
Sounding forth mournful melodies. 

Falling leaves ! of varied hue 
Thou dost teaoh a lesson true — 
How all beauty soon must fade. 
In a lowly bed be laid. 
As the autumn days unfold 
Their bright rays of mellowy gold. 
Beautiful leaves, for thee we sigh. 
Dying 'neath an autumnal sky. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 59 

OH! WHY SHOULD ONE SORROW? 

gRiGHT Stars are a-gleaming 

For thefe and for me, 
Soft breezes are blowing 

Sweet incense so free ; 
Loved voices are singing 

The sweet songs of yore, 
Chiming bells are ringing — 

*'Soul, sorrow no more." 

Oh. why should one sorrow 

And weep oft* in vain ? 
Make gloomy the 'morrow, 

And sadly complain— 
When love's light is beaming 

For thee and for me. 
And heaven's rays gleaming 

O'er life's restless sea. 

Cease, then, thy repining ; 

There gleams from afar, 
Whose rays ne'er cease shining, 

Sweet Bethlehem's star ; 
Blest guide to the pilgrim 

To bright Beulah's land. 
Where waves kiss so softly 

Its fair, golden strand. 

Ah, holy the mission 
AUoted us here. 



60 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



And blest the fruition 
Which casteth out fear ; 

Oh, may we forever 
Have sweet peace within ; 

And press on together 
The blest crown to win. 



FEAR NOT 



•piRM and true, God in view, 
Sin and vice ever eschew. 
Let light divine forever shine 
From out the deathless soul of thine. 
Tho' dark our way, God is our stay. 
And angels guide us on our way, 

Why need we fear tho' dark and drear 
Our pathway be thro' deserts here ? 
Firm be our will for good, 'gainst ill, 
Man's noblest mission to fulfill. 
Let foe in vain the right disdain — 
The end shall prove the victor's gain. 

Faith is our shield, the world the field, 

Go forth to conquer — never yield, 

Heed not the taunt that's brought to bear 

Upon thy soul in conflict there. 

For Heaven will bless and will redress 

The wrongs that heavily on thee press. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 61 



OLD SONGS 

n^HOSE dear old songs of early days, 
Whose plaintive music to the ear 
Resound, throughout life's changing ways. 

In all their loveliness appear ; 
Their cadances rise like incense rare 

On wings of melody divine ; 
Softly we breathe a silent prayer 

As gently on the lips of thine 
Departed souls they once did rise 

In lov/, sweet accents, full of love ; 
Ah ! thoee swest songs we'll dearly prize, 

They waft us thoughts of those above. 

Breathe thou, 0. harp, a joyful strain, 

Let fair hands strike thy chords anew ; 
Waft back once more the sweet refrain 

Of voices of loved ones so true. 
As o'er the scattered wrecks of time 

Their. visions rise in sweet array, 
Breathing with pathos pure, sublime, 

Songs of the aged and the gray ; 
Again the hallowed scenes recall. 

Those dear, bright, sunlit days of yore ; 
That now, as then, our souls enthrall. 

When those old songs we hear once more. 

Then as the harp's sweet strains arise, 
0, visions of our youth, draw near ; 



62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



MUSINGS 

'rpis STILLY eve's sweet, tranquil hour, 

No storm-clouds now above me lower ; 
For, 'thwart yon heaven of starry light, 
Fair Luna, in her onward flight, 
Speeds silvery shafts, both far and near. 
To circling zones and glittering sphere ; 
The evening zephyr woos the place 
Of solitude' with gentle grace ; 
And as the heavens with stars doth gleam. 
Still musing o'er the past I dream. 

I see fair faces, sparkling eyes, 

I hear soft laughter, whisp'ring sighs. 

For visions of the days of yore 

Are hovering now 'round me once more, 

Again to hold a sweet converse, 

And all life's incidents rehearse ; 

Their joys and sorrows ta relate, 

And how we buffeted stern fate ; 

And by m3 their sweet forms doth gleam 

By brilliant rays that o'er them stream, 

Come, gentle spirits of the past. 
And let enchantment 'round me cast 
Her magic charms of potent sway ; 
It seems to me but yestesday 
When I was with those form so real. 
And still their presence now I feel ; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 63 



\nd the holy incense of their love — 
The breath of angels from above — 
Inspires the soul to rise anew. 
Keeping God, and truth, and heaven, in view. 



FREEDOM'S BANNER 

CONS of Freedom ! take this banner ! 

Keep it free from ev'ry stain, 
In a patriotic manner 

Never let its glory wane ! 
Only let true hearts be near it ; 

Let no crouching, dastard knave 
With polluted fingers tear it 

From the legions of the brave. 

None but brave men should be ever 

'Neath the emblem of the free ; 
To defend its rights forever 

'Gainst encroaching tyranny. 
Fear !— the base and cringing minion !- 

Ne'er should find a foothold, where 
Freedom's sons are bravely battling 

For her cause— to die for her ! 



64 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



LET YOUR HEART PROVE TRUE 

\/'0YAGER o'er life's troubled sea, 

Subject to Time's stern decree, 
As your bark doth onward glide 
O'er the seething restless tide, 
In what course you may pursue. 
Let thy heart prove always true. 

Pilgrim journeying to a better land, 
Who the powers of sin withstand, "* 
As you press on toward the goal 
With an ardent, inspired soul. 
Be ye Gentile, or a Jew, 
Let thy heart prove ever true. 

Ye who seek to be a friend 
As you smilingly the hand extend. 
May your friendship be sincere, 
Void of deceit, with conscience clear ; 
And if thou would'st the wrong eschew, 



4 



Let then heart prove ever true. i 

Oh ! he's a blessing whom you find 
Among the multitudes of mankind. 
Who, in grim adversity's hour. 
While life's storm-clouds lower — 
Shall his solemn vows to God renew, 
Letting his heart prove ever true. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 65 



With smiling lips, and sparkling eyes, 

Pass thou with us an hour of cheer. 
And let affection's chain unite 

With golden links, soul unto soul, 
As faces beam with love's soft light, 

Our beings wholly to control ; 
And from thy lips, pure visions fair, 

Breathe once again the songs of yore. 
As fondly we murmur, silently, 

A blessing on those gone before. 



AN ACROSTIC 

T LOVE to think of her whose name 

Now fans fond Loves undying flame 
Ere she had passed from earth away 
Zealous my soul to have her stay. 

My soul with joy will meet her there 
As heavenly music fills the air ; 
Yes, in that land of sweet delight, 

Kissed by eternal light so bright, 
I'll meet her when life's sun goes down. 
Zealous my soul my Love to crown-. 
Ever with her to be, as ages pass by, 
Ruled by a love that can never die. 



66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



DEVOTION 

T WOULD not leave thee lonely 

In a dark world like this : 
I would that we were only 

In that bright realm of bliss, 
I would not see thee weeping. 

For I thy grief would share ; 
Bright angels ! vigils keeping, 

Protect our lady fair ! 

To thus be near thee ever 

I.d dearly fain would be ; 
With honest, firm endeavor 

To live for God and thee ; 
I would we'd sail together 

O'er life's dark stormy main, 
And nevermore to sever 

Sweet friendship's golden chain, 

Bind to thy heart this token 

Of friendship, faith and love ; 
With holy vow unbroken 

I'd waft thy name above ; 
And as thou'rt fondly dreaming 

Of that which is to be, 
Heaven's rays for us are beaming 

O'er life's dark, restless sea. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 67 



SHE IS SLEEPING 

CHE is sleeping, sweetly sleeping, 
While the stars, their vigils keeping, 

Watches o'er the slumberer there 
While each moonbeam softly glances. 
And with silvery light it dances. 

Kissing the pallid face so fair. 

She is sleeping, gently sleeping. 
And, perchance, her heart is leaping 

Wildly with a strange delight, 
As her soul in fields Elysian, 
Greets each bright, enchanted vision, 

In a dreamland fair and bright. 

Beautiful sleeper ! fondly dreaming. 
As Luna's lustrous light is streaming 

Softly thro' the lattice there.— 
Rippling, waving, gently glancing. 
O'er her features softly dancing. 

Playing with her golden hair. 

Peacefully slumbers the fair sleeper, 
Holy angels guard and keep her 

In the watches of the night ; 
As from trials, toil and care, 
Sweetly rests the slumberer. 

Till Aurora sheds her light. 



68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP 

T ne'er will forsake thee, 

Though darkness and woe 
Shroud with gloom thy pathway 

In life's journey below ; 
Tho' friends may prove false 

When fortune doth frown, 
One heart shall prove true 

To the soul that's cast down. 

How sweet for true friends 

In communion to meet. 
Where heart beats to heart, 

And naught is deceit ; 
In weal or in woe 

Never sunder the tie 
That bind hearts together, 

Tho' storm-clouds sweep by. 

Though adversity be thine. 

True hearts will remain 
Free from the foul touch 

Of falsity's stain ; 
In joy or in sorrow, 

False hearts, let them flee ! 
But noble souls will be ever 

True to Heaven and thee. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 69 



TRUST 

J KNOW thou wilt not leave me 

In the hour of grief and woe, 
When misfortunes comes not singly, 

Dark adversity to know. 
For I can trust thee, darling, 

I can read upon thy brow, 
That thy soul abhors a falsehood, 

And wilt not forsake me now. 

Tho' life's dark'ning storm-clouds 

Cast a gloom upon my way. 
Thou wilt, as a guarding angel, 

Be my guide and stay. 
For thy heart is pure and tender. 

Void of falsehood and deceit, — 
Oh, how sweet to greet true hearts 

When in adversity we meet 

Loved one, let thy voice sound sweetly. 

Ever sweetly to my ear; 
Let thy heart bs ever with me 

As I tread life's pathway drear ; 
When a holy calm is reigning. 

And the stars gaze softly down, 
As the light of day is waning 

And the night-queen wears lier crown. 

Far beyond this earth's dark shadow, 
There are fair, unclouded skies. 



70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Where loved ones are waiting for us, 
Watching with bright, loving eyes ; 

W tching for our coming. 
As we onward wend our way 

To that land where music ushers 
In one bright and golden day, 



THOU ART THE WORLDTO ME 

'T'Hou art. my Love, the world to me. 

To cheer my soul o'er life's dark sea ; 
And when I gaze in thine sweet eyes. 
And see a love that never dies— 
I cannot doubt that your heart is true, 
Vs we, together, life's way pursue ; 
Come weal or woe, ah ! still the same. 
Thou wilt be true in deed, as name. 

Then let a giddy world pass by 
With its vain pomp and pageantry ; 
Why need we care for all its show, 
As our souls, as one, together go 
Thro' forest and glen, with angels near. 
The sunlight of Heaven to ever cheer, 
As we're bound for a brighter world afar, 
Beyond each bright and radiant star. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 71 



AT EVE 

COFTLY came the rippling laughter 
Of sweet voices, blithe and free ; 
On the sighing winds came after 

Magic strains of minstrelsy ; 
Fleecy clouds with golden fingers, 

'Bove a blushing sunset sky, 
Float on airy wings above me 

With their spangled drapery. 

Then my soul was fondly dreaming— 

Dreaming of the misty past, 
When sweet faces, softly beaming 

Loving glances on me cast ; 
Faces which will ever linger 

In the mirror of the soul, 
As an unseen hand and finger 

Points to an immortal goal. 

Holy thoughts are brooding o'er me, 

Fairy visions linger near, 
As I silently adore thee 

Oh, sweet peace, to all so dear ; 
When a holy calm is reigning. 

And the stars gaze softly down, 
As the light of day is waning 

And the night-queen wears her crown. 

Still I dream, as up ascending, 
On the soft and stilly air. 



72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Mellow voices in rapture blending. 

Greet me in the silence there, 
Nearer then sweet visions hover, 

Nearer then are those I love; 
Sweet the thought, that o'er death's river. 

Loved ones meet in Heaven above. 



THANKSGIVING DAY 

r^oME ye subjects of God's mercy, 

Let your thanks to Him ascend ; 
He who has safely led you 
Thus far towards your journey's end. 

Praise him for the many blessings 
He has showered on a sinful race. 

On us subjects so unworthy 
Of His paternal love and grace. 

Let songs of gratitude ascend 

To Him who rules alone, 
Who doth a helping hand extend 

To save the erring one. 

From every heart thro'out the land. 
Let deep thanksgiving rise; 

Bountiful to us has been His hand, 
And His dispensations wise. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 73 



THE DRUNKARD'S LAMENT 

Y^s, pass me by, scorn me if you will, 

Your reproaches, they are just ; 
I once, too, was young, and wander'd at will, 

And reposed in myself great trust ; 
But in an evil hour, Alack ! the day, 

I was ensared, and fell ! 
By associating with companions gay, 

I drank the beverage of hell. 

You well may shun me, my haggard face 

Tells well my tale of woe ; 
It speaks for me of my disgrace, 

As onward in tatters I go ; 
And my hand which shakes like an aspen leaf. 

It once was steady and strong. 
But now in sorrow, woe. misery and grief, 

I feebly totter along. 

\ happy home I once did possess, 

Where stayed a loving wife and child. 
Whom 'twas my duty to comfort and bless, 

But, alas ! with grief, have drove them wild ; 
Yes, drove them wild, and now they lie 

Within the cold and narrow grave ; 
And a wretch like I, to let them die. 

When it was my power to save. 

No happy home now !— all is gloom ! 
Those shining lights have gone forever ! 



74 MIsteLLANEOUS POEMS 



¥ 



And now I linger, awaiting my doom, 
This feeble cord of life to sever. 

All my kindred have forsook me; 
^ Life, to me, is a burden now ; 

Remorse of conscience doth hannt me, 
As in grief I bow, 

Look well at me as you pass me by- 
See the wreck of noble manhood ! 

Warn your dear ones not to go nigh 
The dram shop ! for your blood 

Will be your own heads — Beware ! 
Take wnrning from one who knows ; 

Who (that now leads a life of despair,) 
Have drank of its sorrows and woes ! 



THE WORLD WON'T MISS YOU 

'yHE world won't miss you when youEe gone 

But the seething tide moves madly on ; 
The great and small fall side by side, 
And they sink beneath the rushing tide ; 
And thus they come, and thus they go, 
As the river of Time fast in its flow 
Hurries them on to eternity, 
And to this earth they've ceased to be, 
Equal the pauper and millionaire, 
For they're all on a level ''over there" 
So the world won't miss you wnen you're gone. 
For humanity's tide sweeps madly on. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 75 



THE QUEEN OF SONG 

A RISE in thy beauty, enchantress of song, 

The song of the true in sweet praise prolong. 
Like incense to rise o'er Hfe's stormy sea, 
Wafting forth holy thoughts of the brave and the free, 

O'er hill and o'er valley let softly resound, 
The song of the soul, to God's glory redound, 
As souls fondly dreaming, with pure holy love. 
Commune with bright visions from those regions above, 

And as thy sweet notes forth to heaven ascend. 
Let strains of the harp harmoniously blend 
With those songs of the true, as softly on high. 
Ring the voices of angels thro' the fair ether sky, 

Oh, siren of song ! down the dim aisles of Time 

May thy sweet voice ever in melody chime, 
Wafting back to the soul the sweet songs of yore. 
And bright visions departed are with us once more. 

Ah ! fondly Fm dreaming, as softly I hear 
Thy lute-like cadences gently greeting my ear 
With music soft breathing of fair Eden's land 
As voices re-echo from its beautiful strand. 

Oh, sing to sad souls o'erburden'd with woe — 
Of fair golden skies which for them will glow. 
When the storm-clouds of life have all passed away 
To greet the bright light of one blest golden day. 



76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE EVENING HOUR 

r^ ENTLE voices now are calling 
As the dews of eve are falling 
Silently ; 
Sounds of music, softly swelling. 
On the air are upward welling 

To the sky, 
As the sounding harp's glad strain 
Breathes a sweet and soft refrain, 

Gently the evening zephyr's sighing. 
To the sweet notes oft' replying 

Soft and low ; 
As fond, loving hearts are thrilling, 
Joy the weary soul is filling 

With its flow, 
Whose bright current flows so free 
In the hour of ecstasy. 

Tender eyes are fondly beaming, 

In whose languor depths lie dreaming 

A pure love, 
As each love-lii salutation 
Meets our Father's approbation 

From above ; 
As sweet songs are up ascending, 
Holy thoughts are with them blending. 

When life's sun is fast declining, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 77 



When its streaming rays cease shining, 

May we be — 
On the eve of dissolution — 
Free from sin and all pollution, 

As we see 
The soul-sweet visions of the evening hour, 
With their Creator, clothed with power. 



SWEET ANGEL FACE 

CvvEET angel face! Ah ! in my dreams, 
Your love-lit eyes still on me beams 
With light celestial that o*er thee streams. 

Thy form to grace ; 
Light is thy touch upon my brow, 
As softly o'er me, bending low, 
I feel your soft ambrosial glow— 

Sweet angel face ! 

Sweet angel face ! When all is still. 
In the darksome night I feel the thrill 
Of your holy love, and will until 

I seek thy place ; 
The blest abode of the good and true. 
As in my dreams I'm still with you. 
And soon with thee your form I'll view, 

Sweet angel face ! 



78 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE OLD MAN'S REVERY 

"r\AYs of vanished youth ! I love thee, 

And with fond delight I dwell 
On past scenes that hover near me, 
Bound by Memory's mystic spell-. 

Far adown Time's winding river 
On my bark doth ever flee. 

To those waters, which forever 
Flow on to the endless sea. 

Yet, methinks, as still I'm dreaming 
Of those sunlit days of yore, 

That their skies for me are gleaming, 
And I am a youth once more. 

Past visions sweet, in long array 
Doth through my memory gl de, 

As I the misty past survey 
In solitude, at eventide. 

Through all of life's meandering ways 
An unseen hand has led ine on ; 

With a grateful heart my soul surveys 
bod's goodness in life's setting sun. 

As as upon the brink of Time 

I silently lingering stand. 
Realize well this truth sublime. 

Thinking of that better land. 



MISCELLANEOUS P OEMS 79 

i 
Then farewell ! vanished days of yore ! 

Yet thou'rt a solace to old age ; 

Though I behold thy scenes no more, 

Thy memories will my grief assauge, 



THE DARING ATHLETE 

/^OME. drink to the health of the daring athlete, 

With elastic body and swift flying feet ; 
Undaunted and fearless he flies throug,h the air, 
In the saw-dust arena to do and to dare ; 
Takes his Ufe in his hand, as he bows to the throng, 
Courts death with a smile, to him be my song ! 
Then quaff" to the health of him who we meet— 
This generous and courteous, this daring athlete. 

Ah ! little we know of his trials to win. 

Of his powers of endurance, 'mid life's conflict and din, 

As he strives to excel, to win the applause 

Of a public that go to encourage his cause. 

On flying trapeze, on horizontal bar. 

He rises above— a bright, glittering star : 

Then together, as one, in concord we meet, 

And drink to the health of the daring athlete. 



80 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



OLD YEAR, GOODBYE I 

QLD year, goodbye ! we softly sigh, 

Adieu now, and forever ; 
Farewell thy joys, farewell thy woes, 

But their remembrance, never. 
Adown Time's stream our sails still gleam, 

And out on life's vast ocean ; 
Yet sails there are, more blest and fair. 

We love with fond devotion. 
Whose voyage is o'er, which gleam no more 

Amid its fierce commotion — 
Past, with fond hearts, into that rest— 
The peaceful harbor of the blest. 

A last adieu ! Fond hearts, so true, 

Will on thy written pages 
Thy record scan, each blessing ban. 

In the oncoming ages. 
A Nation's grief,* sought for relief. 

When Freedom 'bove was bending 
With weeping eyes, 'neath low'ring skies, 

As up to Heaven ascending 
Rose a nation's cry to God on high. 

With sobs and prayers ablending ; 
And as thou leavest this land of tears. 
Thou hast garnered thy sheaves with the bygone years. 

Yet still there will fall o'er one and o'er all, 
The sunlight of joy, the shadow of sorrow ; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 81 



Oh, bright eyes that gleam, which in ecstasy dream. 

Trust God and sweet Heaven for each coming 'morrow ; 
Loved lips that are still, oh, never to thrill 

Below with sweet songs of sacred devotion. 
We yet still will press with loving caress, 

In that land beyond life's dark, stormy ocean, 
As thro' the cycle of years eternity appears, 

And our soul shall respond with a rapturous emotion. 

Old year, with our joys and our sorrows, farewell, 

We're still nearer Heaven when we heareth thy knell. 

*In reference to the assassination of President James A. Garfield in the 
spring of 1881. 



TO IDA C 



YITHAT shadowy mystery veils thy brain 

Oh. Ida, once so young and fair ? 
Hath sad misfortue proved a bane. 

To make your life one of despair ? 
Left lonely thus, shall friends forsake. 

And call thee one of the insane ? 
To cause a sorrowing heart to break, 

When friends should cheer thee once again. 

Loved ones departed to the Great Unknown, 

Hath grief for them thus crazed your brain ? 
Forsaken by friends once called your own, 

Tis enough to snap the brain in twain. 
Yet look thou still to God on high, 

A Friend that never will forsake, 
For angels still are hovering nigh 

To love and cheer, tho' thy heart should break. 



82 MI6CELLAISE0US FOEMS 



DREAMING 

T^LOAT on my bark adown Time's stream, 

As sunset skies dotli blushing gleam 
O'er the fond dreamer in his dream ! 

Siren of song ! thy voice I hear 
Ih rippling cadences rising clear— 
My restless soul to fondly cheer. 

A restless world goes surging by ; 

I heed it not, and often sigh 

That loveliest flowers of earth should die. 

My thoughts are fixed on those I love ; 
Dear ties on earth, in Heaven above — 
Type of the bright and heavenly dove. 

Float on, my bark, out o'er life's sea! 
My soul with holy thoughts bounds free 
Upon the wings of melody ! 

Loved One ; as golden skies doth gleam 
O'er the fond dreamier in his dream — 
Thou'rt his pure and cherished theme. 

And though storm-clouds hang, often, drear 
O'er hfe's wayfaring voyager. 
Thy angel face will ever cheer! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 83 



THE SPIRIT OF SONG 

T>RiGHT spirit of the dreamland sphere, 

Softly breathe the song I love to hear 
As the mur'ring brooklet onward flows, 
Gently chasing, rippling as it goes. 
Bounding with joy o'er its rocky bed, 
Gliding away thro' marsh and mead, 
So let sweet music's joyful sound 
In soothing cadences upward bound. 

Aye! let its strains be free and deep. 
As up life's rugged pathway steep 
It greets the pilgrim on his way, 
Who at the wayside kneels to pray ; 
In soothing tones to greet the ear 
Of each wayfaring voyager ; 
To thrill the soul of him who hears, 
As wand' ring through this vale of tears. 

Enchanter ! of the magic wand, 
Forerunner of that better land, 
V/aft softly o'er earth's troubled sea 
Notes of enchanting melody, 
As on the soft and ambient air 
With golden wings they soar afar. 
Breathing the longings of the soul. 
Cheering it onward to the goal. 

Light as the swallow that skims along, 



84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

Breathe softly forth thy magic song ; 
Drive from the soul each dark despair, 
And bid bright sunlight enter there ; 
To gently o'er the senses steal, 
\nd move the stony heart to feel, 
As in melodious cadences it dies away, 
Down the winding vale of life's pathway. 

Bright spirit of the golden wing. 
Breather of each fond imagining, 
As gleams the glowing sunset sky, 
And fleecy clouds are flitting by— 
Waft thou upon the evening breeze, 
With its silvery, rippling cadences. 
The song the weary soul loves to hear, 
That softly breathes of a better sphere. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



85 



PLAY THE HARP 

CTRiKE the harp, with fingers light, 

Play with skillful hands to-night ; 
Let sweet notes softly ascend, 
Gentle voices with them blend ; 
Let the soul now wafted be 
On the wings of melody. 

Gently play the harp to-night, 
Fairest one, with eyes so bright; 
Breathing forth a sweet refrain, 
Let it bind the mystic chain 
Of enchantment 'round the soul, 
All life's sorrows to control. 

Softly play the harp to-night, 
\s around the fireside bright 
Gathers the family circle there, 
Resting from life's weary toil and care, 
And let eacli soul for awhile be free 
From a cold world's scornful mockery. 

Then strike the chords, and let the strain 
Breathe forth a sweet and soft refrain, 
Letting enchantment with us dwell, 
Binding us with its magic spell. 
Then awake the harp, fair one, to-night, 
Filling the weary soul with delight. 



L. 



86 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



MAY 

HTHE queenly month bath come at last— 

The beautiful fairy month of May, 
The glorious landscape, oh, how vast 

With beauties spread round my pathway ; 
Her flowers in various hues are shaped 

With symmetrical beauty to the eyes, 
While clambering vines at last have reached 

The cottage roof— to cause a glad surprise. 

The busy hum of bees are heard, 

The bleating lambs from out the dell 
Come frisking o'er the grassy sward, 

While birds their praises swells— 
With their heavenly music sounding far 

O'er woodlands green and babbling brook, 
While comes the balmy zephyr near 

And whisp'ring low, finds each secret nook. 

The flowers are in rich profusion spread 

O'er grassy lawns, thro' woodlands green, 
While babbling brooks o'er rock bed 

Doth ripple its waves where willows lean— 
Hast'niilg on its course, 'long mossy bank, 

Thro' grassy vales 'mid waving feeds. 
Gently murmuring its praise as if to thank 

The God of Nature as on it speeds, 

All Nature sings while willows Wave 
Their drooping branches to and fro. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 87 



And joyful hearts beat free and brave, 
While the soft and gentle zephyrs blow. 

Ah, beautiful May ! thou fairy queen. 
Silently thou hast come the soul to bless, 

With thy beauties dear to be seen, 
And the beautiful garb of Nature for dress. 



THE FUTURE 



V^HAT lies before, none, none can tell 

But God, the great Invisible. 
We hope, we strive, with noble aim 
To climb the slippery steeps of fame ; 
Come weal or woe, whate'er betide— 
With steady hands our barks to guide 
O'er life's vast, seething restless sea, 
Toward an unknown futurity. 
Yet none but God our course can tell, 
But, trusting Him. all will end well. 

On poverty's hovels as on palaces fair 
God's glorious sunlight shineth there ; 
And cradled there proud genius lies, 
In cottage lowly, 'neath golden skies. 
Yet who knows the future of a humble soul 
But He who men's destinies control, 
Misfortunes must and will give way 
Before brave souls in life's great fray ; 
And with the future all will end well, 
If we trust God, the Invisible. 



88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



AND ART THOU GONE? 

A ND art thou gone ? like the fading leaf — 

Swept away before the cruel blast, 
To leave me alone on life's perilous reef 

To mourn for thee, my star of the past ? 
While I sit in sorrow with bow'd head 
Weeping for thee— and art thou dead? 

In life thou wast my guiding star, 

Now what is life without thee ? 
To wring from me the bitter tear, 

While tossing on life's turbid sea ; 
All alone I ride the billows o'er, 
Straining my eyes to view the other shore. 

Thy loving eyes no more shall beam 

With tenderness into my soul, 
And, oh, how long the weary hours seem 

Without thee, As Time doth roll 
His wheels, thy gentle voice so sweet 

Is silent ! and shall we never meet ? 

Ah. yes, thou'rt gone ; but soon I'll meet thee, 
When Time here to me shall be no more ; 

Then, yes, then ! my soul shall greet thee 
In that land — the Golden Shore ; 

Thou'rt gone, but to bid me come, 
And show the way to that heavenly home, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 89 



Then farewell I—but for a season, 
Twill be short ; 'twill soon be o'er, 

When on her throne totters Reason, 
And the Master bids me war no more ; 

Then shall I, with my pilgrimage o'er, 

Greet thee on that celestial shore. 



THE TRUE WIFE 

'T'here's a voice far sweeter than the chiming of bells. 

A voice full of music as upward it swells ; 
Its echoes resound in the pavilion of souls, 
As soothing, and lulling, rebounding it rolls, 
Its chariot of love thro' the bright dreamland sphere. 
And we know she who guides us is still with us here ; 
In joy or in sorrow she still is the same. 
And her husband and children will reverence her name. 

The bright setting sun still crimsons the west 
With its mantle of gold, as returning to rest 
The partner of her bosom sfte greets at the gate 
With s sweet hallow'd kiss, for love conquers hate. 
From life's toils and cares how sweet to repose 
With those that we love, secure from all foes ; 
And the angels of God will bless the true wife 
With bright, fadeless laurels, 'mid the cares of this life. 



90 1V5ISCFII ANEOUS POEMS 






MAID OF MERCY 

T>EAUTiFUL damsel. bright and fair, 

Maiden with the golden hair! 
Pure and chaste, ne'er doth deceit 
Lurk within those eyes so sweet. 
On thy pale and classic brow 
Rest the golden sunlight's glow, 
As its mellowy rays divine 
Do thy being now enshrine, 
As adown the blushing West 
Phoebus softly sinks to rest. 

Child of song ! whose silvery voice 
Bids the weary soul rejoice. 
As adown the vale of time 
Float its cadences sublime — 
Pure and holy is thy mission, 
Sweet is thy fond soul's fruition, 
As thy smiles, 'mid hovels drear, 
Find their way, with words of cheer. 
As pale lips, in grateful prayer. 
Bless thee in thy missioL tneu. 

Though life's way ib rough and dreary 
Oft' to souls so sad and weary, 
From thy features, softly streaming, 
Heaven's own rays are gently beaming, 
As in calm, sweet resignation, 
To the God of all creation 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 91 



Thou dost bow in deep contrition, 
For our race doth make petition ; 
Maid of mercy ! source of love ! 
Angels guard thee from above, 



WRITING POETRY FOR A LIVINO 

TyRiTiNG poetry for a living, with some it is well 
To weave in each rhyme a mystic-like spell ; 
With others 'tis hard to gain a living so plain 
In wooing the Muse, to madden the brain. 
If your poems are published it oft' is the same. 
As the poet gets the chaff of a fast-fleeting fame ; 
For publishers oft' take all you give from your store 
With not even thanks, and the "wolf" at your door. 

Young Chatterton died in a London garret, so bare, 
That "marvelous boy," with a proud, calm despair— 
A suicide's death — publishers then were loth to give. 
A pittance so meager that the poet might live, 
Lord Tennyson's poem on "Sleep," of sixty-one words. 
'Mid the laughter of children and the carol of birds, 
Brought him forty-five dollars per word, 'tis all in a name, 
All's well, when you've surmounted the high ladder of 
fame. 



92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMs/ 



THERE'S WORK TO DO 

T TP brothers, there is work to do ; 

Heard you not the temperance call ? 
Shall ye not then prove true, 

And arouse you, one and all ? 
If we stand thus idly waiting, 

For a great work lo be done, 
And no helping hand extending 

To lift up the fallen one, 
Vain will be our expectations 

That the future will be bright, 
While our land, like heathen nations, 

Still remains in slavish plight, 

Shall we shrink from a duty 

That we know is our's to do ? 
On the fallen have no pity, 

And not to them prove true ? 
Shall intemperance still prevail. 

Aye ! such a dreadful ban ? 
And you before the monster quail— 

Call then yourself a man ? 
If so, God pity us all ! 

For cowards, let them begone. 
For they cast a pall 

Over the good that might be done. 

God is on the side of right, 

And His arm powerful and true, 
And He'll lead us in the fight. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 93 



If we're willing to dare and do. 
Then be up and onward marching, 

See the havoc the foe has made, 
Let us that great work be doing, 

Wielding forth the temperance blade 
For if we linger, idly waiting, 

For some one else the work to do. 
When we see our dear ones dyjng, 

Shall we then, as men, prove true ? 



BRIGHTER DAYS AHEAD 

T)RiGHTER days will come again. 

Pleasure yet will banish pain, 
Wheh the storm-clouds roll away, 
And the joyous sunlight play 
O'er thy features wan with care. 
Then, sad soul, be of good cheer. 

Voices yet will sweetly chime 
Music down the shores of Time ; 
Joyous songs will sweetly rise 
Wafted to yon starry skies. 
Breathing a low and sweet refrain 
That bright days will come again, 

Love, cease then to sigh or w«ep, 
Guardian angels still will keep 
Thee in charge, with tender care 
Shield thee from life's dangers here ; 
Weary now thy hours may be, 
Yet sweet joy will come to thee, 



94 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE SAILOR 

"P'AR away out on the deep blue sea, 

Where the blowing winds are piping free, 
On a gallant ship the sailor goes, 
O'er where each ocean current flows ; 
With a heart so light, a soul so free, 
He courts the perils of the sea, 

He sells 'neath glowing sunset skies, 
'Neath those where howling tempests rise, 
And with a calm and fearless eye, 
Sees the swift hurricane sweep by ; 
And with a strong and steady hand 
Guides aafely the vessel to the land, 

Aye ! jolly the life the sailor leads, 
\nd fraught with events of daring deeds, 
As o'er the angry, raging main 
The vessel flies with creaking strain. 
Watched o'er by Him who rules the skies. 
And lulls the tempests when they rise. 

Child of the sea ! with fearless eye, 
Sailing o'er unseen danger nigh, 
That's hidden 'neath the mighty deep. 
Where its gigantic monsters sleep, 
Ever fearless is thy manly tread 
Above the grave of thy kindred dead, 



'miscellaneous poems 95 



Sail on, within thy ship of state, 

Oh, sailor ! with thy soul elate ; 

The rushing waves are music to thy ear. 

Thou fearest not the storm-cloud drear. 

Though perilous be the life of thine, 

A hand protects thee that is divine, 



THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN 

j§he's a goddess nymph of beauty, as her bright and golden hair 
Ripples 'round her classic features, o'er a noble forehead there- 
And her eyes like diamonds sparkle, lit up with bright sunny 

smiles, 
And her ways are e'er bewitching, fascinating are her wiles ; 
She weaves a web of finest texture, and she lures within her net 
Men who love her to distraction, and they're struggling there as 

yet, 
As with magic power she holds them, and she moulds them to 

her will — 
She's a siren irresistible, shrewd and subtle is her skill. 

Then her peals of silvery laughter ring like music to the stars. 
As she sees vain man a-struggling 'twixt her finely woven bars, 
" 'Tis in vain," she softly murmurs, "for you thus to struggle so, 
For my prisoner you are ever till I will that you can go." 
Strong men yield to her entreaties, and for her they e'er would die, 
Yield their breath on her fair bosom, without either groan or sigh. 
Magic is thy spell, 0, woman, potent is thy sovereign power, 
Be it yet for good or evil in the sweet seductive hour. 



96 MISCELLANEOUS pOEMS 



FORSAKEN 

T^ORSAKEN \ descrtcd thus to stray 
Lonely o'er life's rugged way ; 
Left 'ip id sorrow, woe or pain, 
Soiled by sin's polluted stain, 
Wanderer lone, shall thy hard lot 
E'en to memory be forgot ? 

Left thus, shall no friend be near 
To wipe away the falling tear ? 
Or Sympathy with her tender hand 
Soothe thee with her magic wand ? 
Deserted one on life's tempestuous wave 
Is no one thinking of thy soul to save ? 

Cast on the rocks where dashing spray 
Doth shower its mist and ebb away. 
Thy soul with deep'ning sorrow see 
No haven of rest where it might flee ; 
And will no helping hand be near 
To shield thee in the hour of fear ? 

A fugitive from fatherland, 
Forsaken by thy kindred band — 
Deep is the anguish of thy heart. 
And no dear one to bear a part ? 
To share with thee forsaken one 
The trials of life's journey, just begun ? 



fiCE^LLANEOUS POEMS 97 



Forsaken! and by all? 

\^ I And to by human weakness, fall ? 

^ j No, NOT ALL ! it cannot be, 

As long as Sympathy shall be free, 
And a God above, so just, so true. 
Will, wanderer, see thee safely through. 



FAREWELL TO CHICAGO 

Somewhat after the style of Alexander Pope's "Farewell to London, 
when the author left Chicago, in the fall of 1887, for Kansas, 

pAREWELL ! presumptuous c^ty, farewell! 

Each haunt of vice, and gambling hell ! 
Each "galley slave," who strives to thrive 
On five-cent lunches to keep alive, 
Farewell ! poor slaves, to stick and rule. 
Each arrogant knave, conceited fool ; 
To brutish brawls and brutal "cops,". 
Shallow-brain'd dandies, witless fops, 
To the fair maidens and the old maids, 
And bachelors on their nightly parades, 
Farewell ! to damning woes and pain, 
Where cherished hopes prove void and vain ; 
Where the breath of death floats on the gale. 
Fortunes to sink, and rich men fail. 
Farewell ! saloons — gateways of hell : 
Thou sin-cursed city, farewell, farewell ! 



98 MISCELLANEOUS i^L 



DRIFTING 

irjRiFTiNG.out on an unknown tide 

Out on a world so strange and wide, 
Lonely my sail doth onward go, 
Toss'd by the billows to and fro. 
Dark are the storm-clouds o'erhead, 
Heavy the Storm-King's lightning-tread. 
Drifting whither ? Who can tell 
But the great Invisible ? 

Sailing out on an unknown sea ! 
Unto Heaven. 0, God, and Thee, 
Doth the weary soul look for aid 
'Mid life's checkering light and shade. 
As beneath. Death's hand we feel 
Wrenching at the lab'ring keel. 
Father, God. our pilot be . 

'Mid storms of adversity. 

Into the haven of the blesi 
Guide Thou us to that land of rest ; 
Then at anchor we shall lie 
Where the sunlights never die. 
Onward drifting o'er the main. 
Where loved ones we'll meet again, 
Standing by the crystal sea, 
Waiting, weary soul, for thee. 



K'i' 



A5CELLANE0US FOEMS 99 



LIFE'S € O N F L I C T 

JN life's fray, with firm endeavor, 

Strive we to be true forever ; 
Come what may, in times of danger 
Act the part of a fearless range ; 
Tho' grim Death may o'er thee hover. 
And the smoke of battle cover 
The vast field of war's dominion. 
Rank not with the knave or minion 
Who leave brave men to fight their battles, 
As the death-hail 'round them rattles 
With their messages of death, 

Onward, upward, ever ascending, 
Let thy feet be always wending 
Paths of virtue, love, devotion, 
'Mid a world of great commotion ; 
False hearts, with their idle scorning 
Oft' hath clothed fond souls in mourning i 
Traitors have brought desolation 
By their acts to all creation, 

Wouldst thou climb the steeps of fame. 
Strive to earn an honor'd name, 
That thy deeds may live forever ? 
With thy sword then bravely sever 
Hydra heads of death, pollution, 
Solve at last life's great solution ; 
That to win the love of a nation 
Breathe to it true inspiration 
Of country, home, of right endeavor. 
True unto all, and God, forever. 



100 MISCELLANEOUS POM^^ 

FOR THEE ALONE 

i^oR^thee alone, my cherish'd own, 

I still would live ; 
Wealth cannot give the joys that spring 

From founts that give 
Unmeasur'd love, like that above ! 

As far away 
From thee I roam, from native home. 

For thee I pray. 

And when at eve life's cares I leave 

To seek some spot 
Where sweet flowers nod their heads to God, 

All else forgot 
But thee, my own ; as on their throne 

Through heaven's blue 
The glittering stars shoot silvery bars 

To think of you. 

'Neath swaying trees, by dallying breeze 

LuU'd into rest, 
My soul would be awhilel^with tfaee— 

Ah ! yet be blest 
With thy sweety ace and gentle grace. 

Thy voice so sweet. 
Whose music rings on airyjwingb 

To my retreat. 

Brave souls will win amid life's din, 
Amid its cares, 



KSCELLANEQU S POEMS 101 



Though the world frown on hearts cast down 

In sighs aiid tears. 
For fond love still will brook no ill, 

But victor be 
O'er dastard foes would would oppose 

True hearts so free, 



EVER FAITHFUL 

"pvER faithful would I be 

Fairest Love, still unto thee ; 
Let a proud world pass thee by 
With its hollow mockery- 
Yet thou art a star to me 
Shining o'er earth's troubled sea. 

Chaste art thou, so pure and fair, 
Angels linger with thee there 
At bright eve's soft, golden glow, 
Guardians of my Love, I know. 
As the soft and sighing breeze 
Whispers thro' the forest trees. 

Constant, faithful to the end, 
May our love together blend, 
Bound by one sweet, holy tie. 
Faithful till at last we die ; 
Then our souls may ever be 
True throughout eternity. 



102 MISCELLANEOUS POEM§ ' 



SPIRIT OF LOVE 

Cpirit of love, from Heaven above, 

Calm thou our fears. 
And with thy hand stanch ev'ry wound, 

And dry our tears. 

Tbo' dark the night, thou yet wilt light 

Us on our way ; 
Each wanderer lone is still thy own, 

As low they pray. 

How blest are those whose trust repose 
In God secure ; / 

Who meekly bear their load of care. 
Life's toils endure, 

How sweetly swells, o'er hills and dells, 

The voice of song ; 
To upward rise 'neath starry skies, 

God's praise prolong. 

O'er life's dark sea, 0, God, to Thee 

We onward sail ; 
With Thou, our guide, we'll safely ride, 

Fear not the gale. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 103 



THE ALL-AROUND PRINTER 

ue's an all-around printer, then bear it in mind 

That but few of this class you seldom will find 
Who from "devil" to editor bears his own load of care, 
Like an Atlas to stand without tremor or fear ; 
And it takes a man of genius I'll have you to know 
Who as an all-around printer has his own row to hoe. 

Just glance at the duties he's expected to do : 
First, the work of the "devil" he perambulates through ; 
Then the job work and press work falls next to his lot 
Which he circulates through at a pace that's red-hot ; 
And the type for the pap«r he'll then have to set, 
And at the make-up stone dances a minuet, 

Then oft' in the columns there are plenty of space 
For the news there is lacking to fill up the place. 
To the sanctum he rushes— the editor is out— 
"I wonder what in the hell that man is about ?" 
He cries in his frenzy ; "talking politics on the street ; 
He'd better be here getting out his beggarly sheet." 

So he seizes an exchange and a huge pair of shears. 
And clips therefrom where "wit and humor" appears 
Enough of "phat matter" to fill up the space, 
And from "devil" to editor he has risen apace, 
Or oft' writes a "local to fill up the form. 
Ere he locks up the news with a true, steady arm, 

He is the true lever that often moves all. 



104 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



For such duties on him are destined to fall ; 
And the people oft' wonder : "Well, that's a great head 
That give vent to such jokes that in his columns are read," 
And the editor smiles as he hear his praise from afar, 
And softly whispers : "I'll treat that 'chump' to a five-cent 
cigar," 



THE DEBATING SOCIETY 

YyiTH light hearts free we welcome thee, 

Bid care begone, and joy serene 
Make merry with its melody 

The souls who greet each shifting scene 
Upon life's great dramatic stage, 
From blushing youth to hoary age. 

Through lighted hall let music fall. 
And sparkling eyes their joy attest ; 

Sweet songs our beings to enthrall, 
And our society shall be blest; 

And may our aim be noble, grand, 

A blessing to our native land. 

In warm debate on questions great 
Let wisdom all our acts control ; 

A mighty power that is innate. 
That which bespeaks a noble soul 

Then let our hearts with joy be free, 

And God bless our society, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 105 



HOME OF MY CHILDHOOD 

tdy Ohio's winding river, in a cottage on the hill, 

As the light of day was breaking, and was hushed the 

whippoorwill — 
Came into a world of wonder, came into a world of care, 
Mother's child of sad misfortune, as the crowing chantieleer 
Chimed the hour of the adventist, as the sun rose bright 

and fair, 
Mirroring itself in the waters of Ohio's bosom there. 

Then an infant fondly nursing, lay upon its mother's breast 
In an ivy vine-clad cottage, with a mother's love was blest ; 
As the steamboats with its cargo, landed their precious 

freight below, 
In my days of sunny childhood, in the happy 'long ago." 
Chiming bells o'er rippling waters, ever sounding sweet and 

clear, 
From the "Floating Palace" * ringing, wafted their music 

to me here. 

There in sunny old Kentucky, where Salt River in its flow 
Kiss fair, beautiful Ohio, wandered I then, as the glow 
Of a crimson, golden sunset lined the fleecy clouds with 

gold. 
O'er the home of my sweet childhood, in the sunny days 

of old; 
As I in my childish wonder gazed on Natures grand array. 
Of her beauties ever stretching back into the yesterday. 



106 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Through the mists of years descending down the sound- 
ing aisles of Time, 
Visions of those loved ones greet me, as ther voices softly 

chime, 
Bounding ever o,er life's ocean through the space of starry 

blue, 
"We, in spirit, still are with you, still to thee art ever true," 
Sacred home of joyful childhood, thou hast fallen to decay, 
But "forget-me-nots" from thy ashes bless me at the present 
day. 

Now an honest man a-battling in the ar^ia of this life. 
With God's help to prove a victor in the great contestant 

strife, 
I can gaze with love and pleasure in fond retrospective 

view, 
O'er the sweet scenes of my childhood, which to me are 

ever true; 
Of Ohio's murmuring river, of Kentucky's sunny shore. 
And that home still dear forever, tho' I see them never- 
more. 



* A steamboat with a chime of bells, which used to ply the Ohio 
River during the years of 1854 and 1855. 



MISCEIXANEOUS POEMS 107 



I WOULD NOT MOURN IN SORROW 

T WOULD not mourn in sorrow for the hopes that now are 

dead, 
I would not grieve my life away for joys forver fled ! 
Though dreary days come one by one, and dark may be 

the way, 
I know that God, who rules o'er all, will be the wanderer's 

stay. 

Cease thy repining, 0, my soul ! for it will naught avail 
To sit and brood in deep despair, or like the coward quail ; 
Face thou the worst with a bright smile, and trust God for 

the rest. 
For brave hearts o'er the ills of life as victors shall be blest. 

Let then misfortune's shafts descend, and deadly be the 
fray. 

With foes without and foes within, I'd onward take my way, 

Amid the gloom that shrouds my path with firm, unfalter- 
ing tread, 

My eyes still fixed upon that Christ who for my soul hath 
bled, 

In calm, sweet resignation, I'd bear my load of care ; 
Speak words of comfort to sad hearts and dry each falling 

tear; 
Know that my mission here below is not to e'er repine, 
But breathe to all of that great God whose mission was 

divine, 



108 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THE DESERTED HOME 

'nris MOLDERiNG away, and the marks of dcaey 

Are left on the old home forever, 
And the ivy vines creep, and owls revels keep 

O'er its walls by the beautf f ul river ; 
O'er each crumbling wall as the moonbeams fall 

On that home now silent and lonely. 
Where once voices rang and in melody sang 

Songs sacred, perchance, to me only ; 
And I sit there alone as the river flows by, 
And muse how to live and learn how to die. 

The whippoorwill is calling, the bright leaves are falling 

In the forest, where once I did wander, 
And the night breezes sigh as the rustling leaves lie 

At my feet, as in silence I ponder ; 
And weird shadows dance, like phantoms to prance. 

As tall trees above me are swaying ; 
As I gaze with a sigh on the ruins close by. 

As owls thro' its rafters are playing ; 
Yet dear is the home that is crumbling away, 
Though fallen to earth and gone to decay. 

There the old orchard stands where OLce loving hands 
Cull'd its fruit from the boughs above me ; 

Where voices still dear once greeted my ear 
In laughing and musical melody ; 

And the old-fashion'd well where sparkling, water fell 
From moss-covered buckets is standing. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 109 



Tho' tall weeds have grown 'round that home once my 
own, 
And gone is the old boat-landing ; 
Yet e'er to my heart will this spot still be dear, 
And visions of the past with their presence be near. 



THOU STILL ART FAIR 

^Hou still art fair to me, tho' Time hath set his seal 

Upon thy care-worn brow ; the same pure love to feel, 
As in the days of yore, when thy golden hair 
Nestled about thy lovely face so fair ; 
When thy beautiful eyes like bright stars shone, 
As I, with loyal pride, called thee my own. 

Ah ! yes, still fair, tho' thy cheek is pale. 
Where once blushed love's bright, roseate glow, 

For the love of a true heart ne'er shall fail. 
Let come what may, come weal or woe ; 

For thou'rt the same as when a fair bride. 

When we launched our sail on life's placid tide. 

Though thy golden hair be turned to gray. 
And the lines of care mark thy dear face, 

Yet the same sweet smile o'er its features play, 
And thy form still stamped with comelv grace ; 

Tho' Times sets his seal on your sweet face there, 

Yet my winsome bride will e'er be fair, 



110 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



AT EVENTIDE 

COFTLY ascending, joyfully blending, 
Rise sweet voices, glad and free — 
Softly singing, gayly winging. 
Love-notes o'er Life's restless sea. 

Moonbeams glancing, softly dancing, 

Sparkle in the airy blue : 
As resounding, upward bounding, 

Float the songs of lov'd ones true. 

Fond hearts, beating, are repeating 
Tales of those bright days of yore ; 

Of those 'hove us, who still love us — 
Lov'd ones on the Golden Shore. 

Sweet harps, ringing, now are winging 
Forth sweet cadences of love, 

As a-dreaming, fond eyes, gleaming. 
Seek the dreamy stars above. 

Luna beaming, softly streaming, 
Floods with light the golden hair 

Of the maiden, sorrow laden — 
God's own choice, peculiar care. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS m 



THE SEAMSTRESS 

pAiR and slender, pale yet lovely, sat a woman late at 
night. 

Stitching wearily on the garments by the dull and flick- 
ering light 

Of the lamp, as moving shadows flitted, vaguely, to and 
fro 

'Round the scantily furnished chamber, as the dying em- 
bers glow 

Faintly on the hearthstone by her. On a little couch 
close by 

Lay a fair-hair 'd boy a-sleeping, and she heaved a broken 
sigh 

As she gazed on his fair features, for she lived for him 
alone, 

For of all of earth's possessions he was all she'd call her 
own. 

Oft' would the gray dawn of morning gather on the east- 
ern sky 

Ere she closed her eyes in slumber with a sad and weary 
sigh ; 

Scant her wages, fierce the battle, that they might not 
want for bread, 

As a oold world onward passing, stalked by with a ruth- 
less tread ; 

Yet how beautiful in her slumber, as the angels from 
above 

Guard them in their peaceful slumber, for they know a 
mother's love. 



112 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Still the fair hands keep on stitching as the weary days 

pass by, 
With a trust in God unshaken, as He heeds her plaintive 

cry. 

0, how many hearts so weary toil thus on day after day. 
Looking on the bright side ever, though still dark may be 

their way; 
Hoping, trusting, that though dreary, light my yet divinely 

shine 
On their pathway, in their sorrow, with a joyful love 

divine, 
Toiling on in mighty cities for a paltry crust of bread— 
Wages that breathe of starvation and the city of the dead. 
Oh, ye who are blest with plenty, if ye are of human 

kind. 
In your kind and noble actions bear the seamstress well 

in mind. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 113 



TO THE RIGHT BE TRUE 

»]yf ID life's conflict do your duty, 

Let thy heart be light and free ; 
Wisdom's path is one of beauty, 

Tread it then with joyous glee ; 
Though ihy foes do hard oppress thee, 

Taunting thee with words of hate, 
Great is the reward that waits thee 

At the bright and golden gate, 

He who would in life's hard battle 

Strive to earn a hero's name, 
Must amid the death-shot's rattle 

Fearlessly Right's cause proclaim ; 
Cheer his comrades, weary, fainting. 

Onward toward the destined goal : 
In proud colors bravely painting 

Deeds of an undaunted soul, 

There are scorners, scoffers ever 

Hov'ring 'round the path you tread. 
Ready to each dear tie sever. 

Showing forth a hydra head ; 
Yet with brave determined spirit. 

And with sword of honor bright, 
The true manliness you inherit. 

They appalled will shrink from sight. 

Let not fear cause thee to falter ; 
If a man, why, be a man 



114 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Never once thy true course alter, 
Nobly onward lead the van ; 

In the future lies the token 
That shall crown the victor's brow, 

Gems of love, for lances broken. 
For fulfilled, unbroken vow, 

Heaven will shield the brave defender 

Of the right, 'gainst wrong and sin ; 
He who acts as a contender 

'Gainst the many foes within. 
Then as onward thou'rt pressing, 

With a soul to dare and do. 
If thou wouldst expect a blessing, 

Ever to the right be true. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 115 



SAVE OUR LOVED ONES 

A RISE, arise ! and our dear ones save. 

From the horrors of a drunkard's grave ; 
Come hither, ye true and loyal souls 
To where the tide Intemperance rolls, 
And ere they neath its dark waves sink— 
Oh ! snatch them from its accursed brink. 

There is a hand that rules the skies 
Who leads us on to victories. 
Fear not, oh, brave and valiant band, 
Jehovah by your side doth stand ; 
Omnipotent power is oh your side. 
And will you on to victory guide. 

Save the future hopes of our nation 
From the whirlpool of damnation ; 
Let not those rising stars now fall 
From Heaven's galaxy — our all— 
To sink 'neath the dark tide of woe, 
Their heavenly course no more to know, 

Press on ! nor let thy courage fail ; 

Brave souls were never known to quail ; 

The sword of the spirit ever wield. 

Heaven the cause of right will shield. 

Tho' fallen low, wretched man of woe. 

Dash down the death-cup and join 'gainst the foe. 



116 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



GOD'S POOR 

'pHEY own no lordly castles. 

No wealth at their command ; 
They are not slaves or vassals, 

Though they own not a foot of land ; 
Grim Want is oft' their master, 

And the way is dark and long, 
And storm-clouds come the faster. 

Yet their faith is firm and strong ; 
For they know that in a manger 

Once the Lord anointed lay, 
Who courted every danger— 

God of the Sabbath day. 

They read with pride the story 

Of the lowly Nazarene, 
How the blessed Lord of glory 

In humble garb was seen ; 
How He taught the unbelieving 

That they by faith might see 
The truths He was revealing 

On the shores of Galilee ; 
His voice still down the ag,es 

Still speaks unto the soul. 
As still life's conflict rages : 

"Arise, and be made whole 1" 

Their's is the humble cottage. 

Yet a Paradf se within. 
Where happy youth and fond old age 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 117 



Are purified from sin ; 
Where Nature's hand in sweet array 

Decks with her fragrant flowers 
That home in which the lov'd ones stay, 

As vanish the happy hours ; 
Though frugal is their daily fare, 

And scant, perchance, may be, 
Yet softly rise devotion's prayer 

ToThee. O.God, to Thee! 

Their's is the humble, lowly lot, 

But from the hearthstone there 
Great men have risen, ne'er forgot. 

Whose names all hearts revere, 
Firm faith and perseverance will 

In life's great battle win, 
If each his mission will fulfill 

To triumph over sin. 
God's poor the are, yet brave 

To meet each daring foe, 
The victor's banner wave 

In life's sweet autumn's glow. 



118 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

TO LUCY 

As LONE I lie, 'neath yon bright sky, 
'Mid daisies 'round me growing ; 
As soft winds sigh their lullaby, 

Sweet odorous breezes blowing ; 
And rust 'ling trees with whisp'ring leaves 

Above me softly swaying— 
'Tis then to thee, unfetter'd, free, 
My thoughts are ever straying. 

Thou rt well aware, how fond I care 

For thee, in sadness leaving 
My soul's bright star, that from afar 

Hath set my soul to grieving. 
What fate is mine, I'll not repine. 

But true to thee forever 
My soul would be, faithful and free, 

Love's chain, ah! ne'er to sever. ^ 

Let false friends flee, thou true to me 

Is heaven's best envied token ; 
For blest are those whose trust repose 

In sacred vows unbroken. 
Let love below have that pure glow, 

Still loyal, undeceiving. 
Then souls so blest will have sweet rest, 

And not in sadness grieving. 

Come weal or woe, let rude winds blow, 
And thunders o'er me mutter, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 119 



I'll little care, nor cause to fear, 
As thy sweet name I utter ; 

For 'tis a charm that nerves my arm, 
Lov'd ones at home defending 

From prowling foes, vice to oppose, 
On God's great power depending. 



SHALLOW-BRAINED EDITORS 

A Satire. 

r^OME now, and view this motley array — 
The shallow-brain'd editors of to-day ; 
"Returned with thanks," they loftily say. 
But if it's sheer nonsense just toss it their way ; 
For prize fights, dog fights, and base-ball score 
They devote to their papers a full page or more ; 
"Spring poet," they say, with jibe and With sneer, 
When he, yes, by far, will rank as their peer. 
And as fools they strut like a cock on the walk, 
And air to the public their damnable talk. 
And poetry and literature can languish and die 
When the Press is ruled by such a 'small fry." 
To them the Augustian Age is a thing of the past, 
The poet's bright laurels would they wither and blast, 
And crush struggling Genuis who strives hard to rise 
As a bright flashing star in dark, murky skies. 



120 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



TRUE MANHOOD 

TT IS a precious, priceless gem, 

Fairer than queen-like diadem 
That sparkles on the regal brow ; 
In it are virtues bright and rare, 
The light of God shines from it there, 
Unbroken is each sacred vow. 

Here love and mercy together blend. 
And thro* its mazes e'er will wend 

Fair Truth and Justice, hand in hand ; 
To lift a brothtr, tho' fallen low. 
The study of mankind to know, 

For equal rights fore'er to stand. 

He who possesses this priceless gem— 
This great God-given diadem — 

Is a king among all honest men ; 
To work for his proud country's weal, 
A human heart that's made to feel 

The moving power of tongue or pen. 

A man in deed as well as name. 
Who ne'er dare seek to defame 

The likenesb of his sovereign God — 
Will like a star in grandeur rise, 
And like a beacon thro' the skies 

Its light bless all on earth's green sod. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 121 



KNOW NOW THYSELF 

J^NOW now thyself in all thy ways, 
Be never vain if others praise, 
Be meek and humble, firm and strong, 
With loyal soul that's full of song ; 
By thine own efforts strive to rise- 
Child of the earth, son of the skies : 
Heed not the cruel taunt of scorn 
Coming from the vicious or base-born ; 
The haughty soul shall be cast down 
To rank with the level of the clown, 
And proud oppression grovel low 
'Neath Freedom's just, vindictive blow. 

Know now thyself in manhood's hour, 
The feeling of a righteous power. 
Brave in the conflict, true and kind. 
Possessed of a God-given mind, 
Tho* tempted, tried assailed, cast down, 
Rise yet to win th' eternal crown ; 
To live for others, ! how grand— 
True patriot of thy native land. 

Then as hfe's evening sunset rays 

Sheds a golden light, and softly plays 

O'er thy care-worn features, thy silver'd hair, 

May it be said by others of thee there : 

"His was a mission of mercy and love. 

And souls will bless him when above 

His spirit dwells in that land of light, 

For his life was pure, and his heart was right. 



122 MISCEIXANEQUS POEMS 

THE OLD LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE 

HTHE old log school-house in memory I see 

With the sweet, ieving faces still beaming on me, 
Of the bright days of yore, when naught of a care 
Caused my soul for a moment to harbor a fear. 

Rough hewn were the benches, on long wooden legs, 
Plain boards were the desks, on long oaken pegs 
In the sides of the wall, and tho' homely the scene. 
Still dear to the heart 'twill be living and green. 

McGuffey's Fifth Reader, Ray's Arithmetic, part third, 
Webster's Elementary Spelling Book, we conn'd o'er each 

word ; 
Monteith's Geography, with its great maps to draw. 
And the rap of the ferrule to us was the law. 

Here oft' on Sundays met God's trusty few— 

An old-fashion'd meeting, with hearts firm and true. 

No organ was there, but as one they all sang, 

As the room and the woods with their melody rang. 

Romantic the spot, picturesque was the scene. 
When Nature in her attire was gorgeous, serene ; 
Swaying saplings, forest trees like sentinels lone 
Rose majestic and high, their claim to make known, 

Hopewell was the i>ame, on the brow of the hill. 

Of the humble log school-house, while the brook and rill, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 123 



Murmur'd softly below o'er it smooth, rocky bed, 
Repeating the same song as days vanish'd and sped. 

Old Hopewell ! I love thee ! and the faces so fair, 
Which once in thy precincts fondly gathered there, 
Fair Ellen and Amanda, whom I ne'er can forget, 
As their sweet spirit faces still haunt me as yet, 

Cyrus Reed ! ah ! old schoolmaster, thy vision I see. 
As adown the dim ages, thy form comes to me. 
Still smiling and jovial, as on down Time's stream 
My bark onward glides, with Heaven my dream. / 

Tho' lowly the spot, 'twill ever be dear. 

Visions of the past with their presence be near ; 

And tho' years pass away, yet in memory still 

Will I see the old log school-house on the brow of the hill. 



124 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



LAND THAT WE LOVE 

A LL hail! to the land where Freedom ascending 
On pinions of hght greet the home of the brave; 
Where her beauteous form o'er each sleeper is bendipg, 
O'er heroes who died the fair country to save. 

Oh, blest be the flag— the hero's fond token 
Of the sacrifice made for his country's proud weal, 

Where patriot's deeds by noble acts are outspoken. 
And the obdurate heart at last made to feeL 

Oh, land that we love, where as equals all standing, 
Nevermore shall be heard the foul clanking chain 

Of the slave in his dungeon, where the Pflgrim fathers 
landing 
Caused the songs of sweet Freedom to re-echo again. 

Fair literature and fond art, with the muses now wed 
The past and the present, o'er the quick and the dead. 
And religion and science heralds with trumps from afar, 
The voice of their teachings under Bethlehem's star, 

No dream is thy greatness, Oh, land of the free. 
For thy fame has been heralded from sea unto sea. 
In the archives of history thy great name will live. 
To the oppressed and the fallen a new life to give. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 125 



FICKLE FORTUNE 

TN MY madness have I sought thee, 

Fondly, with the hope again 
That when I at last did clasp thee 

I would feel no woe or pain ; 
But like fleeting phantoms gliding 

Thou has slipped from out my grasp. 
While in mockery, still deriding, 

Thou doth scorn my hand to clasp. 

Often as the evening shadows 

Weave their weird, fantastic shades, 
As church bells from o'er the meadows 

Echo down the winding glades- 
Have I sought thee in my sadness, 

That I might thy presence know. 
Yet, 'twas vain, in all my madness, 

To find thee at eve's bright glow. 

In the busy marts of commerce. 

Thro' the avenues of trade 
Thy proud form is ever flitting 

In sarcastic masquerade ; 
After thee mankind is flying. 

With ambition in their train. 
Struggling, grasping, ever dying, ^ 

While their hopes prove void and vain. 

Ah ! thy ways are oft' capricious, 
And as men may know the more, 



126 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

They become more avaricious 
Adding still unto their store ; 

As the rich are richer growing, 
And the poor become more poor, 

Are we wiser from the knowing. 
Wiser than we were before ? 

Fickle Fortune ! Goddess, Fairy ! 

Subtle, treacherous are thv ways, 
Let men still of thee be wary. 

For like cards she with them plays, 
In which game Fate oft' contending 

Wins th« victim as his own ; 
On the chance some life depending. 

Thus is life's great lesson known. 



GREEDY PROFITEERS 

VTAMPiRES of the human race ! 

Profiteers, with a double face, 
To humanity a disgrace, 

With hard hearts of stone ; 
Living but for selfish gain, 
By their acts to craze the brain 
Of sad lives just on the wane, 

To all love unknown. 
Robbers of a loathsome brood. 
Sucking out the human blood. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 127 



GOD BLESS OUR FLAG 

r^oD bless our flag where'er it wave 

Blest emblem of th« true and brave ; 
Ne'er shall the traitor or the knave 

Trample it in the dust, 
O'er mountain, hill and vale its stars, 
With its bright, waving, sacred bars 
Shall float o'er each true and God-like Mars, 
For in just God we trust. 

Wave free, unsullied, float on high ; 
For thee brave souls did nobly die. 
And for their country without a sigh 

Became a loyal sacrifice, 
Thy dying soldier gazed on thee, 
And smiled, despite his agony. 
To see thy folds unfurled and free 

Float o'er him as he dies. 

God bless our flag ! God of the brave! 
Who unto us this emblem gave. 
Our homes, our country ever save 

From pestilence and woe. 
Protect thou us from every ill. 
Subject us all unto thy will, 
And may we yet prove heroes still 

In life's great conflict here below, 



128 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



JUDGENOT 

JUDGE not humanity by thyself, 

Or humble ways of the poor disdain ; 
As striving for this worldly pelf 

Thou followest in earth's glitiering train ; 
Bat one example, pure, sublime. 

The human soul btill holds in view, 
He who once trod the shores of Time— 

Jesus, the Christ — the God so true. 

Scorn, if you will, with haughty pride 

The lowly, and God's chosen few ; 
And with thy ribaldry deride, 

The paths of sin to still pursue. 
But know that pride will have a fall, 

O'er which oblivion's curtain draw, 
To drink the wormwood and the gall, 

To suffer the stern will of the law. 

Perfection is not found in man. 

And he who others' faults may see, 
Let him his own heart closely scan. 

And God be judge 'twixt thee and me : 
And when life's sunset softly gleam, 

And shed on thee its hallow'd rays. 
As of heaven's paradise thou dream, 

May fond souls bless thy closing days. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 129 



THE BALLOT 

!/■££? the ballot ever pure 

And the Nation will endure 
A proud monument of fame, 
Free from the foul stain of shame ; 
Honest ballot, true and free. 
As the people's sovereignty. 

'Tis a missive, simple, small. 
Yet proud Nations rise and fall, 
By its great and potent power, 
As each ever-changing hour 
Brings with quick and bated breath 
News of life or yet of death. 

Guard the ballot ! let no knave 
Dare corrupt ! with bombast wave 
Colors false, by uses vile 
Dare intimidate the while ; 
For each honest soul shall wield 
That great power while in the field. 

By the ballot people rule. 
Sovereigns they of wisdom's school ; 
"Cliques" and "rings" shall sink below. 
Sweet oblivion to know ; 
For the people's will is law, 
Like a Hercules to draw. 

Cast your ballot for the man 



130 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Who with true heart well can scan 
Freedom's laws, and act for all. 
Heed true Justice's lav/ful call ; 
Be an honor unto those 
Who their trust in him repose. 



THE OLD LOG CABIN 

nPHE old log cabin, I love it so well. 

When a boy I roamed free, thro' woodland and dell ; 
Its old-fashion'd fire-place, with its bright glowing fire, 
Throwing its flickering light on mother and sire ; 
Tho' humble the place, 'twas a dear, sv/eet retreat. 
From the dull cares of life the dear ones to meet, 

Tho' humble the place and secluded the spot, 
Its scenes and ts pleasures cannot be forgot. 
When a school boy I went to the school on the hill, 
As I strove to excel with a hearty good will. 
In my studies to please my teacher the while, 
To win from her an approving smile. 

The dear old log cabin where love dwelt supreme, 
Tho' lowly its roof, yet sweet is the theme. 
Its scenes and its days e'er dear to my heart. 
Doth yet to my soul sweet solace impart ; 
The dear old log cabin which my infancy knew, 
The blest sacred spot, with hearts ever true. 



MISCE LLANEOUS POEMS 131 

BABY IS KING 

gABY is king ! no use of trying 

This stern fact at all denying: 
AU the household to him bowing, 
Ever their allegiance vowing, 
As his merry peals of laughter 
With its music follow after. 
On our knees he's often riding, 
With true hands his course a-guiding. 
Dimpled hands ours firmly holding. 
And he will not bear a scolding. 

O'er the floor he toddles, daring 

Fears that seek to prove despairing ; 

Then he laughs in exultation 

At his feat. In adoration 

Mother catches him up, with kisses, 

And the chance she never misses. 

Into this and that he's peering. 

With mischievous fingers tearing 

Papers into bits of pieces. 

Oft' breaks mamma's dinner dishes, 

Yet this little king, we love him ; 

Tho' he's small, there's none above him. 

0, how fond are the caresses 
Of the mother, as she presses 
Baby king, light of the household, 
"Worth more than his weighs in gold." 
For his love for us grows stronger, 



132 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

As he stays with us the longer, 
Oft' he rules us as he pleases, 
As for this and that he teases 
Till he gets it. Spoiled and petted. 
Oft' hath we our course regretted ; 
Yet we can, after all, but sing, 
"Baby is our merry, household king." 



GO IN TO WIN 



r^o IN, my boy, go in to win. 

With a true and honest heart within ; 
Tho' fickle fortune may disdain 
To woo the now, yet still again 
She my caress thee on the way 
When farther on, in life's great fray ; 
E'er shun vile ways of vice and sin, 
And with brave heart go in to win. 

The world is vast, its limits wide. 
Choose well the way, how to decide ; 
For tempters here, and pitfalls there. 
Seek to lure thy soul to dark despair. 
Thy fondest hopes may oft' prove vain. 
When thy soul would reap the golden grain 
Of sweet success, yet 'mid life's din 
My boy be strong, go in to win, 

"Unstable thou shalt not excel," 
Is an old saying, mark it well. 
Kneel unto none, but unto God, 
Tho' chastening be His righteous rod ; 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 133 



Beset by snares and treacherous foes, 
Hemmed in by sorrows, cares and woes ; 
Rise in thy might, with hope within, 
And the victor's wreath thou yet shalt win. 



BE CHEERFUL 

A RE you often sad and lonely ? 

Is your soul with gloom cast down ? 
God above your true friend only, 

As a v/orld on thee doth frown ? 
What thro' trials may oppress thee. 

Dark and lonely be thy way, 
Look beyond life's heaving sea, 

See yon bright star's beaming ray 
Shining for thee in thy sorrow 

With a holy light divine : 
Know then that a brighter morrow 

Will thou lonely one, be thine. 

Look around thee, see the beauty 

Of God's handiwork divine. 
Sweet flowers 'long the path of duty, 

Smiling in the bright nuiish^ne; 
Lovely Nature, ever teaching 

Lessons of a holy love, 
Thy attention e'er beseeching 

With her scenes around, above. 
Then be cheerful; ever trusting. 

In omnipotent power divine, 
For our God, all things adjusting 

Will remember thee and thine. 



134 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THY WILL O, GOD, BE D O N i; 

Lines written on the death of the daughter of the author, Mrs. Sarah 
Waite, of lola, Kansas, September 20, 1920, at 32 years of age. 

A ND hast thou left us, daughter, fair, 

And left this earth below ? 
With thy little loved ones nestling there, 

And thy husband bowed in grief and woe ? 
'Tis hard to bear this dreadful blow 

To see thee torn from out our grasp ; 
With sweet consolation yet we know. 

That we shall yet thy fair hands clasp 
On God's fair, bright, eternal shore, 
Where parting shall be nevermore. 

Thy will, 0, God ! not mine, be done, 

Mysterious are Thy moving v/ays ; 
Be Thou our Friend, when there is none 

To brighten our dark, gloomy days; 
There in the home is a vacant chair, 

No more shall beam her smiling face, 
Yet in that brighter, better sphere. 

We'll meet her in that heavenly place. 
Why cling to earth when those we love 
Seek that bright Heaven of God above ? 
We bow to Thee, Oh, Holy One ! 
Thy will, 0, God ! not mine, be done ! 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 135 



VOX POPULI VOX DEI* 

"pis THE voice of the people resounding I hear, 
'Tis the voice of just God from His sphere ; 
"Equal rights unto all from pauper to king, 
Impartial justice to all unto a noble offspring : 
Pure freedom of speech in life's arena so grand. 
For the people is king in Freedom's sweet land," 
And oppressors they hear, and as tyrants forbear. 
And with hydra heads cringe in fear and despair. 
For the people rule here with omnipotent power. 
As God shapes the way in euch dark, trying hour. 

The plowman that turn fair nature's green sod, • 

And measures his gain by foot and by rod ; 

The merchant, mechanic and the laboring man, 

With patriotism and pride their dominion scan ; 

Tho' high or low each lot, 'tis sacred and dear. 

And next to God and home their flag they revere ; 

And on the breezes is borne the great joyous cry, 

Exultantly ringing: "Vox Populi, vox DeiT 

Echoing o'er mountains, o'er dales, o'er the wide, wide sea, 

From a true sovereign people, in the land of the free, 

od shield and protect the fair land that we love, 
As Freedom's sweet banner kisses God's sunlight above ; 
V/hen labor and capital clashes together in warlike array, 
And great "strikes" ensue, and bloody the fray. 
'Twixt brothers, beware ! for divided, you fall, 
If you reap the whirlwind, thou shalt drink of the gall : 



136 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

Seek not to oppress, or have wealth for a tool, 
In trying to override, like a despot to rule ; 
For the people rule here, and as heroes they die, 
As still rings the words : " Vox Populi, vox Dei!' * 

* "The voice of the People is the voice of God." 



ENVY NOT 



T^NVY not thy wealthy neighbor, \ 

Better tho' his lot may be, \ 

But with perseverance labor, ■] 

With a soul exalted, free— j 

Free from vain conceit, so blighting, . '-\ 

From dark ignorance so bUnd, : 

Whose dark cloud fond souls benighting j 

Poisons many a noble mind. j 

Be content, tho' yet so lowly \ 

In thy earthly lot below, J 

Let your thoughts, e'er pure and holy, \ 

Shed an influence all shall know, 1 

And be felt by those around you, / \ 

For the weak shall be made strong, J 

With a heart that's ever true 1 

As the poet's heartfelt song. | 

Strive e'er with a manly spirit, \ 

E'er to show an earnest zeal ] 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 137 



For the right, to still inherit 
Love that can for others feel, 

Envy none, but content ever 
Let thy soul still constant be. 

True to each noble endeavor, 
From the sin of envy frea 



THE GOLDEN RULE 

Jn this land of holy freedom, 

Where God's spires of churches rise. 
Pointing toward the God of Heaven, 

Breathing of the great All-Wise ; 
Where on Sabbaths, with devotion. 

In the sanctuary there, 
From a world of dire commotion, 

Gather souls in earnest prayer. 
It is sweet for sisters, brothers. 

Teachings of this rule pursue : 
"Do ye all now unto others— 

As ye would have men do to you." 

In our busy marts of commerce. 

In all avenues of trade, 
We have strict rules, brief and terse. 

That naught shall our rights invade 
And enforced to the very letter 

Are these rules indeed as name, 
All on business ways to better. 

And to win an envied fame. 



138 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS _ 

Yet 'mongst mankind do you ever 
Hold in mind the Golden Rule, 

And with as firm endeavor 
Follow teachings of Wisdom's School ? 

Have you a poor, yet honest neighbor 

With whom Fate has been unkind ? 
Day by day, with patient labor. 

Toiling on, with willing mind, 
Up the steep and rugged pathway. 

With but thorns on every side. 
In his solitude to pray 

That God would his footsteps guide ? 
Then with firm. Christian endeavor 

Teachings of this rule pursue : 
"Do ye ever unto others 

As ye would have men do to you." 

Ah ! this world would be much better, 

If this rule were borne in mind. 
Followed to the very letter 

By the masses of mankind ; 
Misery then would b? much lessened. 

Crime would not so much abound ; 
In abodes by sorrow darkened 

Light and joy would yet be found, 
Happy are they who shall ever 

Teachings of this rule pursue: 
"Do ye ever unto others 

As ye would have men do to you," 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 139 



AUTUMN DAYS 

Q THE golden autumn days, 
With their scintillating rays, 

With their soft and dreamy haze- 
How I love them, 
As above them 

Fleecy clouds with golden red 

Softly sail far overhead, 

As I lone, in silence tread 

Woodlands, where the falling leaves 
A soft, rustling carpet weaves. 

'Bove me forest trees are swaying, 
In whose branches birds are playing, 
As the cascades, rippling, spraying, 
Leap into the river far below, 
With its bright, incessant flow, 
Which goes mur'ring thro' the valley. 
As the reeds and grasses dally, 
With its waves, each whirling eddy, 
As from fields of golden grain 
Comes the reaper s glad refrain. 

Softly fall the autumn leaves. 
From the tall and swaying trees, 
As sweet, plaintive melodies 

Breathe a music, soft and low, 

Music of the Long Ago ; 
As the autumn leaves are dying, 
Golden, sere and brown a-lying. 
As the breezes softly sighing 



140 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

I— 

Whispering of the years that's fled, 
Of our blest and sainted dead. 

Bright fair fields of golden grain 
Waving on each hill and plain, 
As I hear the sweet refrain 
Of the golden autumn days 
From glad harps of sweetest praise 
As the autumn of our years 
With its radiance appears, 
May its joys, with happy tears 
Greet us as we linger here 
With the welcome of good cheer. 



FARE -THEE -WELL 

"PARE-THEE-WELL ! Aud tho' iu SOffOW 

Oft' I bow my head in grief, 
Hope I for a brighter 'morrow 

To bring us a sweet ralief ; 
When again we'll fondly tread. 

Paths secluded, strewn with roses, 
As God's sun shines overhead. 

Where all Nature e'er discloses 
God's great handiwork so true 
'Neath His vaulted arch of blue. 

Absent from thee, tho' I wander, 
'Gainst life's ills to e'er contend, 
I can. Love, in silence ponder 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 141 



O'er thee as my constant friend ; 
In my dreams I will behold thee, 

As thy vision fair comes near, 
Bending still with fondness o'er me, 

Bidding me be of good cheer. 
Fare-thee-well ! tho' we may sorrow, 
God will speed us a good 'morrow. 

Those you trust are oft' deceiving, 

And false hearts will cause thee pain, 
O'er misfortunes often grieving, 

Bound, as 'twere, with fate's iron chain, 
Yet be brave, and cease repining. 

There is yet sweet joy for all. 
For God all your thoughts divining 

Casts a«ide despair's dark pall. 
In thy heart let let deceit never 
Stain thy soul, now and forever. 

When at eve the golden sunset 

Tinge the fleecy clouds with gold 
In the harbor where we met 

Let us be still as of old 
In the spirit, tho' asunder 

In the body we may be. 
Heedless of a great world's thunder. 

Or the surges of life's sea. 
A fond adieu ! but not forever. 
E'en death itself can ne'er us sever. 



142 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



FARMER JENKINS ON MARRIAGE 

"Ts MARRIAGE 3 failuFC ?" this is what Farmer Jenkins read 
In the welcome daily papers, as he leisurely rubbed 
his head, 
For he was sorely puzzled that they published such 'tarnal 

stuff," 
As he called it, for that question had by him been solved 

enough. 
Then he rose from out his arm-chair, took his cob pipe off 

the shelf, 
Filled it, lit it, and, reseated, soliloquized thus to himself : 

" Tears to me these daily papers mighty hard up for the 

news, 
Thus to publish sich sheer nonsense, and hold sich dismal 

views 
About marriage as a failure, when its sartin I kin show 
That sich views are all tomfoolery, for I speak of what I 

know. 
Now thar is Mary Ann an' I, 'tis fifty years since we war 

wed, 
Aa' still we act like young 'uns, 'cept foolish things are 

left unsaid ; 
An' twelve grown children bless our union ; now I'd like 

to know 
If marriage is a failure when sich a lot we show ? 
All healthy men and women, with children of their own ; 
An' grandchildren call me blessed, as they'd a king upon a 

throne. 
Upon this farm we've spent our days, an' saw our children 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 143 



• grow 
Like weeds in that 'ar corn-field, and joys was ours to know. 

"Since fust we war' jined in wedlock, all diffikilties we went 

through 
As calmly an' serenely as yon young moon in heaven's blue ; 
Divorces then were something new, for them we had no 

need, 
But in this age it's awful, the likes I never seed, 
Now, Mary Ann is a good cook, an' not afraid to wash ; 
But now-a-days gals seem to shirk all of these 'ar things, 

by gosh ! 
If they we now like her, I'm willing to declar' 
Thar'd be no divorce mills a-grindin' aroun' us any whar' ; 
Thar'd be no couples getting loosed, but they'd stick fast 

as glue, 
An' then, p'raps, they'd be more wise, an' know a thing or 

two; 
An if they'd study human natur' an' look before they leap. 
They'd stick like Mary Ann an' I, our marriage vows to keep. 

''They thfnk we are old fogies, an' have outlandish views ; 
That times are wiser now than then, an' our advice refuse ; 
But one thing sartin do I know, if marriage is a failure now, 
It's 'cause they do their courtin' wrong, and p'raps they 

don't know how ; 
Some gals now play the pianer, an' don't know how to cook, 
An' half their time they're sitting reading some tarnal, 

trashy book ; 
Now, if they'd lam to wash and cook, an' also how to sew, 
They'd soon a loyal husband find in some admiring beau ; 



144 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



But if too wise to heed advice, the young men counted in, 
If marriage is a failure then, theirs is a beastly sin, 
By long experience do we know, both Mary Ann an' I, 
That marriage is no failure, an' we stick till we die." 

Then Farmer Jenkins upward rose from his arm-chair with 
ease, 

Tho' three-score years and ten had passed, while the soft, 
sighing breeze 

Fanned his silvery locks of wavy hair back from a cheer- 
ful face, 

That beamed with a fond tenderness beside the old fire- 
place, 

And laid the cob pipe on the shelf, as his wife said, with 
a smile : 

"Why, John, you seem in a brown study, and musing all 
this while." 

" 'Tis nothing, Mary Ann," said he, "but something I have 
read 

'Bout marriage as a failure ; for they don't know how to 
wed; 

Or else like you and an' I they'd to their vows be true, 

As we for fifty years have been, 'neath God's own vault 
of blue." 

And o'er the aged couple shone the fireside's cheerful blaze. 

In the joy of their declining years— the golden autumn of 
their days. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 145 



LOOKING FOR A SIGN 

QH ! HOW many people daily, in the "ups" and "downs" of life 

Seek employment in the city, in the great contestant strife; 
Looking for the signs and doorways, wanting help now, here 

and there, 
Gazing in the daily papers with sad hearts of despair, 
That, perchance, within their columns, they would find their 

soul's desire— 
Honest toil, at living wages, as still flamed ambition s fire, 
ff you then are happy, prosperous, in the worlcly lot of thine. 
Kindly think of sad souls suffering, ever looking for a sign, 

Some know not what 'tis to suffer by misfortune's cruel blow, 
Feel for others, as they would do, did they like experience 

know; 
Who have all that heart could wish for, on their souls no 

no anxious dread 
For the 'morrow, while in sorrow homeless ones our streets 

doth tread. 
Still in quest of honest labor, that success might yet attend 
Their persevering, patient efforts, yet to find a loyal friend 
'Mongst the great and moving masses, follower of the Christ 

divine, 
Who would bless the sad souls roaming, ever looking for a 

sign. 

Ye, who in God's sacred temple gather there in earnest prayer. 
Praise Him who once trod the by-ways of a world of grief 

and care ; 
He who in earth's vale of sorrow knew not where to lay His 



146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS \ 

head, I 

1 
i All alone in His heartfelt sorrow did the reeking wine-press j 

tread— j 

Think ye well in life's vocations, that the noble Christian's j 

creed, , | 

Rightly followed, is to bless all, help a fallen one in need. | 

'Tis not all to ever worship at God's great and holy shrine, \ 

■ -' 1 

For the rest is love's sweet labor— bless those looking for a j 

sign. ] 

Ye who hoard up princely treasures, seek a proud world's j 
mighty fame, j 

If ye e'er would prove a blessing, win an honor 'd lasting name^ 
As in halls of gilded splendor you appear in God-like mein, i 
Like a star in yonder heavens, by a great world to be seen— i 
Let your deeds be acts of kindess to sad hearts who toil for 

bread, i 

Find employment for the thousands who in want our great 

streets tread ; i 

Then, like gods, ye all shall ever be as Him who is divine, ] 
When ye bless the sad and weary, ever looking for a sign. i 



MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS 147 



WHEN FRIENDS FORSAKE 

J^ET friends prove false, thou still wilt be 

True as the stars of God to me ; 
Let false hearts flee, let knaves betray, 
Thou rt the same as yesterday ; 
Tho' dark misfortune's shadow throw 
A gloom o'er all our hopes below. 

Oh, Love ! with all thy virtues rare, 
Thy heart is ever with me there ; 
E'er kind and brave, and patient still, 
A balm to every vexing ill, 
A jewel set on earth below, 
, A lasting luster to bestow. 

Let false hearts flee, unworthy they 
Of honor, trust, in life's great fray. 
Vile cowards of the deepest dye. 
When danger comes, are never nigh ; 
Bnt thou, with all thy magic charms. 
A victor prove, the foe disarms. 

Tho' darknesss hovers o'er my soul, 
Thou, as a light, doth still control ; 
Thy eyes like stars upon me beam 
Where'er I rove, where'er I dream ; 
Fair spirit, with your light divine, 
My fondest hopes are ever thine, 

Let friends forsake, their trust betray. 
Like chaff to pass and flee away ; 



148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



In grim adversity's trying hour, 
Thou, hke a sweet and tender flower. 
Will cling to me, and on earth's sod, 
Worship together the one true God. 



I DREAM OF THEE 

r\F tliee I dream, when all around 

Is hushed in tranquil, sweet repose, 
When stars a mighty world hath crown'd. 

And Luna thro' my lattice throws 
Her quivering rays of silvery light 

Across the couch whereon I lie; 
I dream, my Love, of thee, to-night, 

When in the spirit thou'rt nigh. 

The' abse It from thee I may roam, 

To battle in life's ceaseless strife, 
Still dear to me the scenes of home. 

And thou still dearer far than life. 
In dreams thy vision stfll I see. 

Bend o'er me with a tender love, 
My soul to wander with thee, free, 

In paths that lead to God above, 

Once more we stroll ihro' woodlands fair 

With blooming flowers on ev'ry side, 
As 'mongst the leafy branches there 

Bright birds carol till eventide, 
Once more thy hand is clasp'd in mine, 

With a sweet, fond and loving trust. 
Ah ! where I roam I still am thine. 

For thou art noble, good and just. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 149 



THE FADED LETTER 

"Pis a precious, faded letter 

Bearing well the marks of age ; 
Ah ! in sunny youth I met her, 

Whose handwriting on each page 
Still breathes a sweet inspiration. 

Bearing the stamp of holy love : 
Next to God, with adoration, 

Waft I to His throne above 
That fond name, and breathe in prayer 
Holy thoughts for her so fair. 

In the "Long Ago" I met her. 

With bright roses in her hair- 
Author of this faded letter, 

With sweet virtues, pure and rare ; 
When at eve we roved together. 

As the sun tinged with its gold, 
Fleecy clouds in balmy weather 

In those happy days of old ; 
And I keep it as a token, 
That our vows shall ne'er be broken. 

'Twixt its leaves are faded roses 

Once kissed by her golden hair ; 
In their leaves still e'er reposes 

Love's sweet message to me tiiere : 
Can you wonder that I treasure 

Such a faded letter still ; 
Ah ! we've pain amid our pleasure. 

For God took her— 'twas His will. 



150 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



THOU STILL ART NEAR 

'T'Hou still art near where'er I go, 

. Thy image with its light to glow 
Within my soul, as soft and low 
Thy voice with sweet, pathetic flow 
Lulls my soul to oft' repose 
From all life's sorrows and its woes ; 
When stilly eve its shadows throws, 
And the Night Queen reigns o'er all below, 

Thy vision fair will greet me still, 
My rapturous heart to ever fill 
With holy love, as softly gleam 
Thine eyes upon me in my dream, 
Come weal or woe, thou art the same, 
And naught can put thy soul to shame. 
As like bright stars thy eyes e'er shine 
Upon me with their rays divine. 

And I could die, and rest content 
Within thiiie arms, and ne'er lament 
The hour when death should set me free, 
If dying, I could gaze on thee, 
And let thy sweet breath fan my cheek, 
Gaze in thine eyes, and hear thee speak ; 
To hear thee whisper : 'Soon I'll be 
Forever, Love, ah ! still with thee." 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS L51 



THE INCREASE OF CRIME 

Qa^ any one wonder at the increase of crime, 

When the toilers for bread 'long the pathway of time 
Are spurned with contempt by the cold-hearted man 
Who boasts of his riches, his millions to scan 
With proud, gloating eye, and turns from his door 
Some poor, starving wretch, tho' honest and poor. 
Without e'en a small crust, or a kind word of love : 
. Ne'er follow the teachings of our Master above ? 

Can you wonder that in this free land of ours. 
Where Nature clothes all with her garlands of flowers, 
Where the churches of God with spires grandly rise. 
Pointing the soul to its maker— the Great Sacrifice- 
That grim Poverty here dwells, with Want and with Woe, 
To curse the pure souls with their death-dealing blow, 
When cold, selfish souls, in wealth and in ease, 
Suffer the weak or the helpless to starve or to freeze ? 

Oh ! how much crime could be averted if, true to God's cause 

We'd show our humanity in upholding the laws ! 

How a kind act, or a word, if accorded in time 

To some desperate soul, would prevent a dark crime ! 

Yet little we think, or care, of what may betide, 

So our own boat o'er the dark waters in safety may ride. 

Let selfishness not rule us, but with open hand 

Rescue the down-trodden in Freedom's fair land. 

Oh ! then, know thy mission— to rescue — and brave 
The dangers that rise, tho' the coward and knave 
May slink like the hound when cowed by the foe, 



152 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

And scatter sweet smiles wherever you go, 

Treat e'er as a brother souls that are cast down, 

That thy star may grow brighter, and immortals will crown 

Thy soul with fadeless wreaths from God's land sublime, 

Ah ! then will soon cease the increase of crime. 



HOW SWEET TO BE REMEMBERED 

TTow sweet to be remembered 

By loved ones, fond and true. 
To know you're not forgotten 

When other scenes you view. 
Tho' absent from the fireside, 

Tho' roaming far and wide, 
Fond hearts for thee are beating 

As o'er life's sea you glide. 

Oh, gay and thoughtless rover. 

Oh, soul bow'd down with woe, 
Of thee loved ones are thinking 

In the soft, twilight's glow ; 
As o'er the landscape gathers 

The sombre shades of night. 
Their visions near thee linger 

In ths hour of sweet delight. 

By loved ones ne'er forgotten, 

Go, prove yourself a man. 
And meet misfortunes bravely, 

Tho' they should prove a ban. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1S3 



Faint hearts will never conquer, 
Brave souls will gain the day ; 

Dear ones are softly praying 
For those that are away. 



BR BRAVE 



■gE ye brave In life's great battle, 

In the vast arena there, 
Tho* death's hail may 'round thee rattle, 

Victory crowns the brave and fair ; 
Onward ! 'gainst the foe contending, 

Prove a hero in the fray, ! 

Truth and right fore'er defending, i 

Let thy sword e'er cleave a way. | 

What tho' odds may be against thee. 

Still be firm, undaunted stand. 
In this great land of the free, 

Let sweet Freedom's voice command ; 
As her flag above thee waving. 

Breathes of heroes tried and true. 
Who grim death e'er dauntless braving. 

Did the fleeing foe pursue. 

Let all knaves and traitors vanish 

Like the mist before the sun, 
Ever from our presence banish 

Those who do their duty shun ; 
For this is a land of heroes, 

And as such shall ever be ; 



154 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Not a place for bloody Neros, 
But for men of chivalry. 

Then be brave, fore'er defending 

Freedom's just and noble cause ; 
E'er the helping hand extending 

To the fallen ere you pause — 
For if you'd in life's great mission 

Prove a victor in the fray, 
Such you'll be— a blest fruition 

To the hero of to-day, 



THE QUEEN OF LOVE 

iv/TAiDEN smiling, bright and fair, 

With your rippling, golden hair, 
Starry eyes of liquid blue, 
Beaming with a light so true- 
How your merry laughter rings, 
As its notes on airy wings 
Echo softly o'er the vale. 
Queen of love, sweet nightingale I 

Soft your sweet voice ever chimes 
Love's own true, melodious rhymes, 
Breathing of a love so pure, 
That forever will endure ; 
On thy fair and classic brow 
Light divine is gleaming now, 
Shining on the© from above. 
On our happy Queen of Love. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 155 



FOOTSTEPS ON THE STAIH 

r^FT* I hear familiar footsteps 

On the sounding, echoing stair, 
With their batter and their clatter, 

Through the roomy corridor, 
As the voices of the children 

Rose in mirth and childish glee. 
With their chime of merry music 

Wafted upward, full and free. 

And I listen to the laughter 

Of the children in their play, 
Echoing thro' each lofty rafter, 

In youth's bright and sunny day ; 
And I think of my own childhood, 

How Ifke them my heart beat glad, 
And my voice rang out such music 

When a gay and blithesome lad. 

And these footsteps ever ringing 

With their patter on the stair. 
Breathes of souls whose hearts are singing 

Like the birds that cleave the air ; 
Full and joyful, up ascending 

Chime sweet voices in their glee, 
As bright skies above are bending 

O'er those happy hearts and me. 

Footsteps on the stair returning 
From the toil of busy day. 



156 MISCELLANEOUS FOEMS 

Of loved ones, whose hearts are burning 
With love's bright and hallow'd ray ; 

When at eve the sun is sinking 
In the ruddy, golden west, 

Ah ! how sweet to hear the footsteps 
Of the souls that we love best. 

Down the aisles of Time a-ringing 

Echo footsteps on the stair, 
As bright visions pass'd me winging. 

Greet me in the silence there ; 
Fairy footsteps, softly falling. 

Spirit faces, sweet and fair, 
Voices to me sweetly calling— 

Footsteps on the heavenly stair I 



THE RISE OF GENIUS 

nPHE rise of Genius will not "down,"' 
Tho' a cold world upon it frown : 
Born yet of God, it still will rise 
Tho' in a lowly bed it lies. 
And like the eagle, proud and free. 
Exult in grandeur o'er land and sea : 
No hand can its proud spirit tame, 
That soars aloft on tongues of flame. 
Nor envious minds bar e'er its way, 
That seeks its onward flight to stay. 

No "clique" or "ring" can hold it back. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 157 



As it soars 'long Heaven's starry track ; 
Like Truth, it e'er is bound to win, 
O'er foes without, and foes within, 
And snap asunder the slavish chain 
That binds it to the earth again. 
Tho' humble be the poet's lot, 
By God and angels he's not forgot ; 
Like Chatterton's soul, he yet will rise 
To hail sweet Heaven's golden skies. 

From high-flung Atlantic's crested wave, 
To where Pacific quiet waters lave 
The grand old harbor of Golden Gate, 
O'er mountains vast, and prairies great. 
The song of the rustic swain will rise, 
Echoing with the woodland's melodies 
Of warbling songsters from leafy trees. 
Still softly echoing on the breeze. 
As the song of the soul from cottage there. 
Is caught by the angels in the air. 

Ah ! yes, true Genius yet will rise. 
Born e'er of God, child of the skies. 
From hovel or palace it will soar. 
With music 'hove the breaker's roar. 
O'er life's great ocean breathe sweet peace 
To hearts in sorrow, who seek release. 
And from each shady and quiet dell 
Breathe songs of love we love so well, 
Then scorn not those of lowly birth. 
For in the past they've ruled the earth. 



13S MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



ONLY A PRIVATE SOLDIER 

The following poem relates a military event which occurred at Fort 
Sheridan. Illinois, during the month of January, 1898, by the brutal 
treatment of a private soldier by a conceited and egotistical Captain. 

"QNLY a private soldier ! Drag him by the heels 

Over the stones, break his bones, 
Let me see, then, how he feels ; 
Captain am I, to command. 
He my orders disobeyed, 
For his trial refused to stand, 
I've a notion to have him flayed, 

"Four of you men quickly go, 

With a rope securely bind 
This subordinate. I'll have him know 

That in me no lov6 he'll find. 
What! And shall this petty knave ; 

Dare to brave me ? To refuse 
To obey orders that I gave, 

My authority to abiise ?" 

Thus spake the irate Captain to his men, 

And followed after them apace 
To bind an American citizen 

And brand him with a foul disgrace. 
They tie a rope about his heels. 

Around his ankles, firm and strong ; 
They drag him, the sharp stones he feels 

As o'er them he is dragged along. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 159 



Beneath his head his arms are thrown 

To shield it from the stones below ; 
Without a murmur or a moan, 

As thus his captors onward go. 
The Captain follows on behind 

And prods with sword with fiendish glee 
His hapless victim — an act so kind, 

Sweet essence of martial chivalri) ! 

And why, forsooth, was this soldier here 

Dragged like a dog o'er the stones along ? 
To revenge the wounded pride of a charaeler 

Who sought to make right out of a wrong. 
And this, in a Christian land of ours, 

Where Freedom's starry flag on high 
Waves o'er God's fair and fragrant flowers, 

For which our soldiers fought, to die, 

Only a private soldier ! Yet where to-day 
0, citizen, would be our Union grand 

If not for him, who in the fray 
As heroes there did nobly stand 

Against a brave and dauntless foe, 
Snatch victory from its defiant grasp, 

And laid the dastard traitor low ? 
, Such hands sweet Freedom loves to clasp, 



160 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



HOE YOUR OWN ROW 

uoE, my boy, hoe your own row. 

Even then this great truth know ; 
If on others you depend 
You'll be loser in the end, 
If it is your noble aim 
To carve out an honor*d name. 
On fame's pinnacle to glow — 
Hoe, my boy, hoe your own row. 

Genius, like the diamond rare. 
In the mind embedded there, 
Tho' obscure when brought to light. 
Polished like the diamond bright. 
Glitters with a a brilliant gleam- 
Bright star of the poet's dream ; 
And as such for thee 'twill glow— 
Hoe, my boy, hoe your own row. 

Tho' a world scorn and deride, 
Let pure conscience be your guide; 
You will find that in the end 
It has proved the truest friend. 
On life's journey you will find 
False and true amongst mankind ; 
But, my boy, where'er you go. 
E'er be true — hoe your own row. 

Genius will, with scorn, disdain 
Those who would with fetters chain 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 161 



It beneath oppression's rule, 
Be he knave or taunting fool. 
Born of God, it e'er will rise, 
Like the bright sun in the skies, 
Then be brave where'er you go— 
Hoe, my boy, hoe your own row. 



IN SOLITUDE 

^HERE is a time when the weary soul 

Seeks Solitude's sweet, shady bowers 
From life's turmoil, as peace control 

The passing of those happy hours ; 
In the dim forest, or woodland glen 

To sit and muse, as to and fro 
Sway the rustling branches, now and then 

Hear tinkling bells sound faint and low 
Of roving kine in pastures green. 
Where nature's loveliest tints are seen. 

How sweet the breath of the forest flowers, 
As the sighing breeze now fans the cheek. 

Wafting sweet fragrance from nature's bowers. 
Kissing the pale lips of the weak : 

And pallid cheeks glow wUh a rosy hue. 
And dim eyes sparkU with rays of joy ; 



162 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

I The strength and hopes of hearts renew, 

I As warbhng birds their songs employ 

1 To soothe the sonl in love's retreat, 

t ■ 

I Their plaintive melodies to repeat. 

i ■ • ■ ' . 

\ The rippling brook sings the same sweet song 

; As it did in days of long ago, 

i As it glides o'er its pebbly bed along, 

i With its ever soft and murm'ring flow, 

[ And the mournful notes of the lonely dove, 

i 

1 Echoes o'er woodland and mossy dell, 

For its missing mate without its love, 
As Solitude weaves its magic spell ; 
And the huntsman's horn is heard from afar, 
And the faint bay of hounds 'neath the evening star, 

Oh, Solitude ! Here, within thine own domain, 

The soul with holy thoughts can rest; 
Breathe forth love's pure and sweet reteifiv- 

With happy visions e'er be blest ; 
As musing o'er the past, arise 

Sweet love-lit faces of days of yore, 
Again to vanish, with farewell sigfcs-^ 

Blest, sainted ones, gone on before. 
Ah ! sweet thy retreat to the weary soul 
Where spirits unseen hold sweet coutrol. /' 



l_ 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 163 



STAND BY YOUR FLAC; 

/^o! STAND by your flag, sweet Freedom defending, 

Ye sons of the brave, by your country e'er blest, 
As songs of the true are upward ascending 

O'er the tombs and the ashes of heroes at rest : 
Gresn and peaceful the valleys that nestle so lowly 

'Tween mountains so graiid of our swoet native land, 
And sacred the homes where love, pure and holy, 

Reign o'er fond hearts, united to stand. 

Oh ! blest land of our fathers! ne'er shall proud oppression 

Rule the land of the free, for equal are all ; 
Each soul in free speech, can give honest expression. 

In defending the laws— the great and the smal'. 
Then stand by the flag ! the hero's fond token ! 

Blood-bought by the brave— swe5t emblem so dear : 
Our vows have baen made, and ne'er shall be broken. 

To protect and defend it, when the foe hovers near. 

From ocean to ocean its folds proudly floating 

Shall wave o'er the homes of the loyal and free ; 
O'er the rich and the poor, who, their lives devoting, 

To Freedom's sweet cause, are devoted to thee, 
0, fairest Columbia! in your glory and beauty; 

For your sons in their might, will quell the proud foe. 
Ever true to thy cause, and firm in their ciuty. 

And the diadem on thy brow the brighter will glow, 

In peace or in war, we e'er as a nation 

The dignity and grandeur of our Union uphold. 



164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



r 



And Freedom's proud flag, with fond adoration, 
Brave souls will protect, with hearts ever bold. 

Wave on! thou blest emblem, o'er mountain and valley, 
O'er the patriot's home, o'or the wide, surging sea ; 

True hearts 'neath thy folds will joyfully rally 
For honor and home, for God and for thee ! 



APPLE-CUTTING PARTIES 

QH, those apple-cutting parties, 

In the days when we were young, 
When as rustic lads and lasses 

We unto each other each other clung ; 
As we toward the farm-house wended, 

Where the party was to be, 
As our joyous songs ascended 

With their notes of melody. 

There were baskets of rosy apples 

On the floor so neat and clean, 
For the farmer's comely housewife 

Was of tidy and graceful mein ; 
In the fire-place londly crackled 

Then a cheerful, glowing fire, 
As the merry party gathered, 

Greeted by the jovial sire, 

Beaus and sweethearts then together, 
Trays of apples by their side, 

Little thought of wind or weather, 
As their fingers nimbly glide. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 165 



With bright knives the fruit a-pairing, 
Cutting in quarters the apples red, 

By sly glances their love declaring — 
Wonder what the lovers said ? 

Soon the evening work was over. 

Jim brought out his fiddle then ; 
"Oh !" exclaimed sweet Kitty Glover, 

" Tis thus always with the men 
For a dance— come let's begin it!" 

Pulling her lover by the sleeve ; 
'1 am ready, just this minute, 

Waltz with me, dear Simon Reeve/' 

Floor is cleared, and partners forming, 

Jim commences a lively tune, 
And the dance begins a-calling. 

And the dancers are whirling soon, 
'Round and 'round, as the firelight dances 

O'er the happy faces then, 
As sweethearts, with roguish glances. 

Smiles and bows unto the men. 

Soon the merry dance is over, 

And the couples homeward hie, 
Arm in arm, eadi ardent lover, 

Sally forth 'neath a moon-lit sky. 
Oh ! those apple-cutting parties. 

In the days when we were young ; 
We can ne'er forget them, never, 

Tho' their joys remain unsung. 



166 *ffiS&LLANEOUS POEMS 



POVERTY'S LANE 

QH, Poverty's Lane ! 'tis a long one, you know, 

And thistles and briars along it will grow. 
And toiling on o'er its rough, beaten way 
Are sad, weary hearts, young, aged, and gray. 
Whose souls are cast down with sorrow and woe, 
For Poverty.s Lane is a hard one, you know , 
And the wolf of grim Want e'er skulks by the way 
To rend the unfortunate who falls as its prey. 

Christ Jesus, our Saviour, trod Poverty's Lane, 
From the time shepherds saw Him on Judea's plain ; 
As in Poverty's cottage in plain Galilee 
Dwelt the God of us all, its suffering to see ; 
Mocked by wise men of the great far-famed East, 
Who sat as great lords o'er each princely feast. 
He put them to shame by acts great and grand, 
As God o'er them all, unequaled to stand. 

Aye ! Poverty's Lane is a long one, you know. 
And therein dwell grim Want, and Sorrow and Woe ; 
Yet fond souls pass down it with sweet words of cheer, 
Saying, "With God on our side we have nothing to fear, 
For He who feed the sparrows will watch o'er us all, 
Provide for our wants—Heaven's manna will fall." 
And let not the proud view them with haughty disdain. 
For God's chosen ones dwell in Poverty's Lane. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 167 



WHKM THE LEAVES ARK FALLINC; 

"yyHEN the leaves are falling 

In the golden Autumn days. 
And the sweet voices calling 

Thro' the woodland ways, 
And the breeze is sighing 

Thro' the forest trees, 
As the day is dying, 

Fraught with melodies- 
Then my soul with pure love free, 
Ever still will think of thee. 

When the leaves are failing, 

In a lowly bed to lie. 
Free from fetters galliug, 

Rest sweet Physche and L 
Luna softly beaming 

From her starry throne. 
Musing there and dreaming 

Of the great unknown— 
The my thoughts with holy love 
Breathes of thee and God above. 

Softly the leaves are falling 

As I think of thee; 
Voices sweetly calling, 

With their melody; 
As the bells are chiming 

O'er each mossy dell, 
With their merry rhyming 



168 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



That I love so well. 
Then thy vision, sweet and fair, 
Breathes to me of God in prayer. 



COME WITH ME 

poME with me among the roses, 

Where my soul with love reposes, 
Where fair Nature e'er discloses 
Beauties to the sparkling eye, 
Here in Nature's garden dreaming. 
Balmy air, with fragrance teeming, 
I can see thy fair form gleaming 
With divine light from on high. 

Come with me when the day is dying. 
When the evening zephyr sighing, 
To sweet chiming bells replying, 

Breathe e'er of a holy love. 
Fringed with gold above us riding, 
Fleecy clouds are softly gliding, 
On their airy wings abiding 

Till the stars gleam from above. 

Now a holy calm is brooding, 
No unwelcome steps intruding, 
No false hearts our souls deluding. 

As we stand 'neath heaven's dome, 
Come, then, in your joy and beauty, 
True in all life's paths of duty— 
In your queen-like, regal beauty. 

Let us breathe of "Home Sweet Home." 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 169 



THE VISION 

IN my chamber lone I'm sitting 
As weird shadows 'round me flitting 
On the walls glide to and fro ; 
As the flickering flames are dancing 
In the fireside, glinting, glancing. 

Lighting me with their gentle glow ; 
As the night breeze, softly sighing, 
Thro' the casement, faintly d>ing, 
Rustles the curtains to and fro. 
As weird shadows come and go. 

Sitting there, and silent musing, 
And the precious time abusing, 

With each vain and sad repining ; 
Wishing life's dark days were over. 
Envying the gay and thoughtless rover, 

Waiting for the silver lining 
Of the dark storm-cloud to-day, 
With its pall to pass away ; 

Thinking still, and thus divining 

That the sun would soon be shining. 

As I sit there, dimly appearing 
Rises a form, close to me nearing, 

Pale and beautiful to me there ; 
Spirit from the land enchanted, 
Yet why should I thus be haunted 

By a woman divinely fair ? 
Golden hair from her forehead gleaming. 
O'er her shoulders rippling, streaming, 



170 MISCELLANOUS^POEMS 



Robed in white a-standing there, 
And a voice rose on the air : 

"Son of earth, why this repining ? 

Canst thou see the silver hning ?" 
Spoke the vision, sweet and low ; 

"Be ye up, by faith e'er winning, 

Let thy soul yet cease its sinning. 
That thy soul with joy may glow, 
Triumph yet o'er every foe." 

"Fair one from the land Ely si an," 
Spoke I to the white-robed vision, 

"Comforter to us mortals here, . 
To this lowly place descending. 
Humble mortals e'er befriending. 

Spirit from the better sphere — 
Guide me in the path of duty, 
Mav I see life in its beauty, ^ 

Ever to me be thou near. 

May I e'er my God revere." 

Then the vision, close advancing 
To my side, as the firelight glancing, 

Threw on its fitful glow- 
Raised its beautiful hand, extended 
O'er my head, as its sweet voice blended 

With the night breeze sighing low : 
"Son of earth, thy prayer is granted. 
From the blessed isles enchanted, 

I have come, from the Long Ago, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 17l 



Now I bless thee e'er I go," 

Quickly then, my hand extending 
Toward the vision o'er me bending, 

Tried I to grasp her white robe there 
But retreating, then disappearing. 
Faded the sweet form, so endearing, 

To me still so sweet and fair ; 
And the embers low are dying 
On the hearthstone, as the sighing 

Of the night breeze softly there 

Breathe of the vision sweet and fair. 



THE WORLD IS WHAT YOU MAKK IT 

Qh, this world is what you make it, 
And, depending how you take it. 
You can make it sad or gay. 
You can pine your life away. 
Or like joyous birds te rise 
In life's bright and sunlit skies, 
Breathe of a sweet and hallow'd bliss 
Found in such a world as this. 

Poverty oft' may be your lot, 
And your life with trials fraught. 
Yet your soul can noble be 
Battling with adversity. 
Smiling when misfortunes frown, 
Cheering the brother that is down, 



172 MISCELLANEOUS PO EMS 

Bidding him yet by faith to rise, 
See the rainbow in the skies, 



'Gainst great odds you must contend, 
And him whom you thought a friend 
Will prove false, and e'er forsake ; 
Let such go, for they unmake 
All the good that oft' is done 
Neath God's bright and shining sun ; 
Act thy part as becomes a man, 
As an actor in life's short span. 

Aye ! this world is what you make it, man. 

To yourself a blessing or a ban ; 

Let your soul ne'er yet lament 

That your life has been misspent; 

Let your heart with music ring, 

And youf soul exultant sing, 

That o'er all the ills of life 

You're a victor in the strife, 

And thou, lady, sweet and fair, 
With bright virtues, pure and rare, 
Thou canst, too. with winning grace. 
Prove a blessing to thy race : 
Make this earth a heaven below, 
On sad hearts sweet smiles bestow. 
Life's true path, oh ! ne'er forsake it. 
For this world is what you make ic 



MISCELLANEOUS POEJMS 173 



ON SEPARATION 

Qo ! LEAVE me in iny sadness, 
And mingle with the gay ; 
If staying would be madness, 

I ask thee not to stay. 
With others gayly mingle, 

Bid pleasure banish pain, 
While yet the life blood tingle 

Within each throbbing vein. 

Let other hearts caress thee. 

And press their lips to thine, 
With a fond love to bless thee, 

But none more true than mine. 
The holy vows once plighted 

Before God's altar there, 
When first we were united, 

Should e'er to both be dear. 

Thou needst not ^are my sorrow, 

My poverty and pain» 
I would a brighter 'morrow 

Would dawn on thee again. 
Go, then, on others smiling, 

Their hollow friendship claim, 
With acts and arts beguiling, 

Yet honor still thy name, 

The love-lit songs you sung me, 
: / er still be dear. 



UKL 



1;74 MISCELLANEOUS FUEMb 

i ^ " ■ ^ ■ ~~~ ■ '^ ^ ~- 

i 

! In memory's jeweled casket, 

I 

1 Bl«st by affection's tear, 

As still, in fancy ringing. 

Their notes rise sweet and free. 
To starry heights a-winging 

O'er life's dim, sobbing sea. 

Then leave me in my sadness 

And mingle with the throng. 
If it will cause thee gladness. 

With music and with song; 
And when life's sun is setting 

And the spark of life is low, 
There can be no forgetting 

Of our love in the "long ago." 



FOR FREEDOM 

T7»0R Freedom e'er will brave men die, 

For home and country without a sigh ; 
Invading foes meet hand to hand. 
And for their rights fore'er to stand. 
Brave heroes they, who will not quail 
Before the leaden and iron hail 
That thins the ranks of the gallant few. 
For Freedom's cause is just and true. 

For Freedom will brave men rise in arms, 
Not daunted by grim war's alarms ; 
When foes of liberty and prowling knave 
Dare the sacred rights of home invade. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 175 



Like the brave Spartans e'er of old, 
Their independence still uphold ; 
God-given e'er their rights will be, 
For God is with the brave and free. 

Hail ! sons of Freedom, far and near, 
Who e'er her sacred cause revere, 
For the God of battles e'er will be 
On the side of the sons of liberty. 
For sordid souls for greed of gain 
Will meet defeat on the battle plain, 
And Freedom't banner wave on high, 
O'er heroes not afraid to die. 



NEVER WORRY 



^EVER worry, fret or scurry. 

'Round and 'round, in nervous haste, 
For your fretting, and regretting. 

Will but maee your life a waste- 
Waste and barren as a desert. 

Where oft' shrieks the dread simoon, 
Causing sadness to the heart. 

Dark'ning life's bright, sunny noon. 

Never worry, as you hurry 
Onward 'long the path of life ; 

'Twill bring sorrow for the morrow 
In the great contestant strife. 

ute is fleetmg as we re meeting 
Pilgrims in earth'jj /a'e below ; 



176 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Then be cheerful, never fearful, 
God is with us as we go. 

Never worry ! Tho* so dreary 

Be the path wherein you tread. 
Dark and lonely, briars only 

Growing 'round and o'erhead ; 
Do your duty ; full of beauty 

Shall your path hereafter be. 
If thus cheerful, never fearful 

Of the dangers that may be, 

Never worry ! It will hurry 

Quicker yet unto the grave 
Those who do it, and pursue it, 

Like the wild winds madly rave; 
Craze the brain, bind like a chain 

Souls that would yet happy be, 
And will ever, like a river. 

Haste thee to eternity. 

Never worry ! Bright and cherry. 

Take the bitter with the sweet, 
Like a hero, o'er a Nero, 

Smiling on the souls you meet, 
And the wrinkles that o'er-sprinkle 

Many a sad and careworn face. 
Will yet vanish, if you banish 

Worry from the human race. 



f 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 177 



SHKS NOT WHAT SHE L SKI) TO H 

Che's not what she used to be, 

She's not now the same to nie, 
As in happy, vanished days 
When I used to sing her praise; 
Then love held its potent sway 
O'er two hearts in the far away, 
When her hand was clasp 'd in mine. 
And she murmur'd, "I am thine!" 

Oh ! love's happy dream has passed. 
For it was too sweet to last ; 
Making of our heaven a hell : 
And grim poverty brought its woe. 
Blighting our joys of the Long Ago. 
Nay ! she's not the same to me. 
As my love once used to be. 

Then she sang, as the moon shone above, 
"0 ! the Lone Starry Hours give me, Love.' 
As we rov'd 'neath starry skies. 
And the zephyr, with its sighs. 
Kissed her cheek of roseate hue. 
'Neath heaven's smiling vault of blue ; 
But those happy days have fled. 
And love's roses now are dead. 

She's not what she used to be. 
Yet I love her still, you see ; 
For the many ills of life 



178 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



In life's great contestant strife. 
Vex the soul, e'en to the grave, 
Blighting our joys which love once gave ; 
Tho' she's not what she used to be. 
She is still dear unto me. 



THE RUSTIC BEAUTY 

]§HE may wear but a calico dress 

Yet she's sweet, and fair, 
I could love her none the less, 

And she's willing to do and dare; 
Roses in her golden hair, 

On her cheeks are roses red, 
Laughing lips, like rcses are, 

Soft aud lithesome is her tread, 

O'er the meadow and the glade 
Like a lark her sweet voice sings, 

'Neath the oak or hawthorne's shade 
Like soft, chiming bells it rings. 

Rustic tho' her ways may be, 
Light beams from a smiling face, 
I Give her a chance, and you'll see 

I That she'll fill a woman's place. 

I 

Happy maiden ! Tho' so lowly, 

Plain and simple now 
Are thy ways, yet pure and holy 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 179 



Is thy love and vow ; 
City belles may queen and lord it 

O'er the hearts of many a man, 
But in time thy worth and merit 

Will true men admire and scan. 

Rustic beauty ! Like a sunbeam 

Here you come and go, 
Like the fairy of a dream 

In youth's healthful glow ; 
Tho' no gems adorn your beauty. 

And but simple be your dress. 
In sweet Nature's path of duty 

We will love you none the less. 

What is wealth to a true woman 

In whom one can confide ? 
x\il her noble virtues scan, 

Ever by your side ? 
Take your dross, but give me ever 

Her who never will forsake, 
Tho' earth's wealtn she may have never. 

Yet she can a heaven make. 



180 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



ON THE MISSISSIPPI 

QN the far-famed Mississippi 

Rode my Jove and I, 
On a steamer gaily gliding, 

As the waves danced merrily ; 
Thronged with souls she rode the water, 

Decked with flags and bunting gay, 
Happy were earth's sons and daughters 



t I it-\ ■♦■l-*r>-^ rx T» T J-. V* 4- ri ■»-» ^ n T » 7 j-\ y-^-*- Itti-»>^ «-y r> t 7 '*^ 



On that bright and sweet June day.* 

Sof I", sweet music from the steamer 

Wafted on the whisp'ring air, 
Floated o'er the grand old river, 

O'er her island, here and there : 
And from these sweet songs ascended, 

Blending wdth the music's chime, 
As along the shores extended 

Nature's beauties to all sublime. 

Waft us o'er thy tide, ye waters, 

Flowing down unto the sea, 
As thou didst the Indian daughters. 

And their braves long ceased to be ; 
Brave De Soto rests beneath you, 

Great discoverer of thy charms, 
As the scenery still we view, 

Rests he still within thy arms. 

Fathers of all waters gliding 
Down into the mighty deep, 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 181 



As o:er thee we're gaily riding, 
Softly the bright sunbeams leap, 

Kissing thy silvery breast a-heaving. 
With its great incessant flow. 

As my love and I are sitting, 
List'ning to the music as we go. 

'5Jnne 18. 1905. 



']■ H E OLD MILL ON ROCK ISLAND 

Qn Rock Island, in the Mississippi, 
Stands a lone, old-fashion'd mill, 
As the surging waters rushing by 

Chimes its song with the whippoorwill ; 
Like a sentinel grim 'tis standing, 

O'erlooking the waste of waters wide, 
Time-worn, to the eye commanding. 

As I stand there by its side. 

'Tis decreed here by the government— 

No rude hand should e'er molest 
This well-known and cherished landmark, 

But decaying shall sink to rest ; 
Time alone shall be its master, 

As little by little it falls apart ; 
Long has it thus stood disaster, 

Waiting for its time yet to depart. 

Oft' at night thro its bare rafters 
Will the owls and night birds play. 



182 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



As weird, fantastic shadows gather, 
And the winds sigh mournfully ; 

Ghost-like, in the moonbeams rismg, 
Stand this mill of days gone by, 

Where once there the wheels of commerce 
Hummed their songs so merrily. 

On this island still is standing 

The government arsenal well in view, 
Brave Colonel Blunt o'er all commanding 

With his trusty "boys in blue ; 
Where are forging of cannon and arms of war, 

As the sound of hammers play their tune. 
But, traveler, when dawns the evening star. 

Behold the mill in the light of the moon, 

Weird, fantastic, it is commanding. 

Ghost-like tho* its form may be. 
Jealously guarded by soldiers standing, 

'Tis a relic, worth while to see ; 
Time alone its frame can shatter, 

Nature's law of decay fulfill, 
And the storms may beat and batter 

Yet in grandeur stands the old mill. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 183 



LET THE BEAUTIFUL SLEEP 

j^ET the beautiful sleep ! Why o'er them weep ? 
Thus lying low, as to and fro 

The weeping willow bends 

And droopingly extends 
Its branches there, o'er the dead and fair, 
With its sighing song, e'er borne along 

By the spirit breeze. 

Ah! blest are these! 

There on the grassy mound the lily and rose are found. 
Budding sweet and fair, o'er the beautiful there, 
Clinging with fond embrace 
To the last resting place 
Of loved ones true, as the glistening dew 
Of heaven sparkles low, like pearly tears to glow 
X O'er the beautiful there; 
O.er the pure and fair. 

Let the beautiful rest, by fond hearts blest, 
Theirs is ttie gain, no woe nor pain 

Ne'ermore will have them grieve. 

Or base deceivers weave 
A deadly snare ; no tempter there 
Dare e'er profane this place, made sacred by God's grace ; 

Sigh weeping willows there. 

While angels guard the fair, 



184 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



SWEET SABBATH DAY 

Cv/EET Sabbath Day, of hallowed rest, 

May we for thee our love attest 
In heartfelt prayer aud songs of praise, 
As we to God our voices raise ; 
Blest day, by God our Father given, 
To breathe to us of Him and Heaven. 

Now let sweet peace o'er all prevail, 
No strife the list'ning ear assail, 
As souls as one in concord meet, 
The sweet old story to repeat— 
How Christ came to this world below, 
To save our souls from sin and woe. 

Blest, hallowed day ! Oh, may we all 
Before our God with rev'rence fall. 
And praise His name, and crown Him Kin^ 
Who did to us salvation bring — 
Eternal life to mortals give, 
Beyond the grave with Him to live. 

Welcome, sweet, sacred day of rest, 
By weary, plodding pilgrims blest, 
That draws us nearer unto God ; 
Oh, may we kiss Thy chast'ning rod, 
And know, 0, God, that Thou art near 
To e'er dispel each doubt and fear. 



1 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS \^ 



THE SILENT HARP 

QH ! the harp is silent lying, 

As the golden day is dyin^. 
As th3 evening zephyr, sighin^\ 

Whisper thro' its chords unstrung. 
Breathing a requiem for the deptrted— 
She, who to it life imparted. 
Fair and lovely, g3ntle-hearted 

Litta *, singing now among 
Angels, in bright fields Elysian 
As her blest and bright-robed vision 
Breathes to me my heavenly mission 

Lisped from an immortal tongue. 

Oh ! for the vanished hand that tuned thee. 
Silent harp, as sweet and free 
O'er life's dim, resounding sea 

Roee her voice of love. 
As the starry worlds were gleaming, 
And a restless world was dreaming. 
With her love-lit eyes a-beaming 

Up to God above. 
As her voice then softly singing, 
Up the starry pathway winging. 
Chiming still, and ever ringing. 

Sought that Home of Love. 

Silent harp ! the moon is beaming 
Thro' the casement, o'er thee streaming 
As I sit there, of her dreaming— 
Angel Litta*, far away , 



186 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Come, thou bright and heavenly vision, 

From the golden fields Elysian, i 

Ere is closed my earthly mission, j 

Tune the harp, and play. 

Ah f she comes, in white, so lovely, 1 
Tunes the harp, with pale hands free. 

And once more its melody ' ^ 

Seeks the far away. 1 

Is it fancy, or is it real, i 

As the sound o'er my senses steal, 1 

As her piesence now I feel — \ 

Loved one of my soul ? I 

Hark ! her voice, so sweet and free: j 

" Then you'll remember me," i 

i 

Rising with the harp's melody, | 

My being to control, i 
Up I start from where I'm sitting, 

For to clasp her, but moonbeams flitting \ 
Glint only the silent harp, yet not forgetting. 

My soul will seek her goal. ^ 

1 

*Litta, Marie Eugenie Von Eisner, the celebrated opera singer, of Bloom- l 

ington, Illinois. | 



MISCELLANEOUS POEM S 187 

RELICS OF THE DEPARTED ' 

j^ovED and cherished are the relics j 

Of our loved ones gone before. ! 

Garments that are old and faded. | 

That we ever keep in store ; 
Trinkets worn by father, mother, 

Or by little baby, too, 
Or by sister, or by brother. 

Ever sacred to our view. 
As our lips, in fondest prayer, j 

Breathe the names of those most dear. ^ 

There a tress of golden hair. 

Here a cherub's tiny shoe. 
Of sister, and of babe so fair, 

For them our love is ever true : 
A faded flower she loved so well 

With its pressed leaves I see, 
Twixt the Bible's leaves to tell 

Of her so dear to our memory : 
Departed ones! forever dear, 
Thou still to us art ever near, 

A faded letter from a loved one there. 

With words of tender love. 
Is guarded with a jealous care, 

She who now 'ives with God above ; 
Time on may glide, and we grow old. 

Yet, still their visons we shall see. 
With outstretched arms seek to enfold ! 



188 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Their forms again in ecstasy ; 
And as we kneel to God in prayer 
Know that above we shall meet them there. 



SWEET VALE OF EAU CLAIRE ^ 

'T'here's a sweet, peaceful valley in the far, golden west, j 

Tween mountains majestic and grand, I 

Where flows a fair river in that haven of rest, | 

And Nature enthroned has command. I 

On its banks bloom sweet flowers that nod to and fro, i 

And the kine in green pastures with tinklirg bells stray, j 

And ivy-vine cottages nestle low in the glow ] 

Of the suns golden rays of the fast-fading day. [ 

'Tis the vale of Eau Claire, so lovely and fair— ■ 

Retreat for the weary ; ! peaceful Eeu Claire ! I 

Ah ! dear is this vale, and I ne'er shall forget 1 

The peaceful retreat— this spot e'er so fair, j 

Where in the ivy-vine cottage there, loved ones as yet ] 

Repose in the vale of lovely Eau Claiie. ^ 

Heife swaying trees bend to the kiss of the breeze, ' 

And the music of birds from their branches arise, ; 

As ihe soft air resound with their melodies, j 

Till the bright sters bedeck the fair alzure skies, i 

Sweet vale of Eau Claire ! from sorrow and cere 1 

Let me rest in thy bosoxn with all that is dear. f. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 189 



From the city's loud din, its turmoil and strife, 

The weary soul flies to thy border to rest, 
And breathes there with joy the sweet essence of life. 

And with such a balm the sad heart is blest. 
The distant blue mountains, with high peaks of snow. 

Tower upward as bulwarks to this valley so fair. 
And of all the fair places on earth here below 

There,s none that excels the vale of Eau Claire. 
Sweet vale of Eau Claire, e'er lovely and fair. 
I ne'er shall forget thee: oh, charming Ean Claire! 



H E A V E N 



rpKERE is a swcct, etcmal clime 

Beyond the dark'ning shores of time. 
Where loved ones wait to welcome me 
Beside the flowing, crystal sea ; 
To clasp glad hands on that bright shore. 
Where parting will be nevermore ; 
How sweet the thought, forever there. 
In that blest Eden-land so fair ! 

Fain would my soul on pinions fly 
To that immortal home on high, 
From this cold world's vain, fleeting show. 
Those dear departed ones to know. 
Where heavenly music's sweet refrafn 
fs wafted o'er the Elysian plain." 
As clothed in robes of spotless white 
Loved ones are waiting. Oh, sweet delight ! 



190 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 

Oh, beautiful land ! Home of the soul ! 
Where dwells He who my acts control ; 
Thy visions fair by faith I see 
O'er life's dim, vast, tempestuous sea ; 
My soul fears neither storm nor gale, 
With God I shall o'er all prevail ; 
Why then need 1 to have a fear, 
With God and loved ones ever near ? 

Sweet beckoning hands, for me below 
You gently wave them to and fro, 
From out that bright, celestial clime; 
As I hear the soft melodious chime 
Of low, sweet music from above, 
The whisp'ring voices of those I love, 
Watching and waiting to welcome me 
To the land of blest immortality. 



-A 



BE WITH ME IN MY LONELY H O L R S 

QH, spirits bright ! My souFs delight I 

Be with me in my lonely hours ; 
False are those we love— come from above, 

From thy sweet Eden's heavenly bowers^ 
And gather 'round me, with fond hands free. 

Waft me the perfume of immortal flowers. 

Sweet visions bright, with me to-night. 
Chase from my soul gloom and despair ; 

Tho' false below those we love so. 
Be e'er to me still sweet and fair. 

Thou still art true as we pursue 
Our pilgrim way to the Better Land. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 191 



ALABAMA JOE— AND THE D A H K I K S" 1) A N ( I 

A LABAMA Joe! yah, dat's my name, 

I'se from the State of Alabama came, 
In de sunny land of cotton, 
Bressed land that e'er de sun shone on ; 
When Marser Linkum come to set us free. 
And Gineral Sherman marched unto de sea. 
So youse darkies in dis cabin here. 
Knows who I is, dat now is clar. 
I'se and my banjo, we goes together, 
In all kinds of fair and stormy weather. 

So, den, Fse to be de leader of dis dance, 

An' I want it to beat eny hosse's prance. 

An' now youse darkies clar de floor. 

An' you, pickai.innies, stop sniggering at dat door ; 

Now I'se with my banjo, thrum, thrum, thrum. 

An' when you darkies hear it hum, hum, hum. 

Choose den your pardners an' fall in line. 

An' follow de commands of mine. 

An' you, Sambo, and Jemima, lead de grand march. 

For dis dance will take out you some of dat starch. 

So now it begins, don't snigger or snuffle. 
But get along dar wid dat double shuffle. 
All hands aroun'. and now promenade ; 
Golly ! but that beats eny dress parade ; 
Keep time wid by banjo, an' circle k) de left. 
But, dar, don't get wild, with your senses bereft. 
Make dis cabin ring wid your flying feet, 



192 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



Advance toward each other and perlitely retreat ; 
We]], dis beats al],.well dis is so. 
Or my name is not old Alabama Joe 

Now de dance is over, but e'er we do part, 

You darkies sing some songs now dear to de heart ; 

Sing, "Way down on the Swanee Riber," by the sea, 

An' "The Old Home Ain't What It Used to Be." 

An' "My Old Kentucky Home," tho' I nebbei was dar, 

But the old songs are good any whar ; 

Yah, that is well done, I knew you could sing, 

For you know yon are used to dat sort of a ting ; 

But as the days speed by and years come and go, ^ 

Remember me still as old Alabama Joe. 



THE TRUE WOMAN . 

Che is a jewel, rich and rare. 

Whether she be homely or so fair, 
And he who wins her has a gem 
Worth more than the costliest diadem ; 
For come what may, come weal or woe, 
Joy or adversity to know, 
She is the same, with heart e'er pure. 
Life's trials e'er bravely endure, 
And cheers the man she calls her own, 
Her love, by acts, to e'er make known. 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 193 



FOND HE A UTS A H K BKKAKIN(i 

poND hearts are breaking for some one to love. 

Alone, and in silence, neath the bright stars cbove 
Bright eyes, dim with weeping, with sad. aching heart. 
Sigh for some one to love, who will never depart : 
For a true lasting love that will never grow old. 
For a soul that is true, unswerving and bold ; , 
Fond hearts are breaking for some one to-ni^1it. 
For a lover that's absent— the fond soul's delight. 

Fond hearts are breaking for some one to love.» 

As they kneel there in silence to the great God. above. 

For s^ome one to cheer thepi on life's weary way. 

To be a protector, a guide, and a stay : 

For the clasp of the hand, a lingering caress, 

A fond, loving soul, that ever will bless : 

A companion through life that will never depart. 

But make heaven below for the sorrowing heart. 

Fond hearts are breaking for some one to love. 

As alone they are roving, yvatched by angels above : 

On a strong arm to lean, be a lover alway. 

To guide their lone footsteps o'er life's thorny way ; 

For a love that will bless, a heart that will feel, 

A devotion that's true, and one that is real. 

For how sweet is the love of true ones below. 

'Tis a heaven to them in this sad world of woe. 



194 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



SOME DAY 

COME day, perchance, when far away 
I absent roam, yon then will say— 
"He loved me well !" too late to tell 
His yearning heart that you could love. 
As lone you sit, and the stars above 
Tell with their rays of other days 
When he cla^sped your hand and with a sigh 
Saw his brightest hopes in ashea lie. 

Some day, too late, you then will sfgh, 
When Love's brightest hopes in ashes lie— 
"I loved him well, but dare not tell," 
And as the years like phantoms glide 
Wish that he were yet by your side 
To bless and cheer, with love so dear, 
Thou who wast dearer than life to him. 
As he roams alone thro' life's woodlands dim- 

Soms day, perchance, when the soul has fled / 
To the Gieat Unknown' and you softly tread 
By the hallowed mound, 'neath which is found 
His ashes encased in their last repose, 
You'll kneel in prayer, and think c^f those 
Happy days of yore, forever o'er. 
And as thy tears kiss the flowers above 
Feel, alas 1 too late, you did tru^y love. 



CHRISTMAS POEMS 195 



CHRISTMAS POEMS 



C H R I S r M A S 

uail, gladsome day ! with festal lay 

Tliy advent now we celebrate, 
Wien fro n afar sweet Bethlehem's star 

Did blest Judea's heart elate, 
As light divine did softly shine 

O'er where the Saviour infant lay, 
In manger low, meekness lo know. 

The great and just Redeemer lay. 
While shepherds knelt, and sweetly felt 

An inward sense of holy awe. 
As there each soul, on Heaven's scroll. 

Beheld and read God's holy law . 

Round festal board, with one accord, 

Come happy faces, bright and fair. 
Greet with good cheer the Christmas here 

Let not be left a vacant chair. 
Father, mother, sister, brother, 

Greeting each with a holy love, 
Irt concord meet in home* s retreat. 

As angels chant their songs above. 



196 CHRISTMAS POEMS 



Let anthems rise unto the skies, 
Resounding forth a sweet refrain, 

As still afar the heavenly star 
Glimmers o'er fair Judea's plain, 

Yet there may be far out at sea, 

On life's dark ocean tempest-tost, 
Loved ones so dear who cannot hear 

The Christmas chimes — to them they're lost. 
Each vacant chair may cause the tear 

Unbidden oft' for them to flow ; 
But God is, near those lpv!d ones dear,' 

And light divine for them will glow. 
Then dry the tear, why need we fear, 

When He who calmed the troubled sea 
Will from above guard those we love 

Who absent from us still may be ? 



CHRISTMAS POEMS 197 



THE BIRTH OF C H R I S F 

J^ ML ! Christmas day; with joyful lay 

Thy advent now we now we celebrate; 
Sweet Christmas morn, when Christ was born. 

Our soul with joy to e'er elate. 
In manger low, 'neath the star's bright glow. 

The infant Jesus sweetly lay, 
As angels above chanted songs of love, 
And kneeling shepherds blest that day. 

Oh, wondrous love! that from above 

Came the Son of God to lowly lie ; 
Came a world to save, His blest life gave, 

For a sinful world to bleed and die/ 
0, Saviour, King ! to Thee we bring 

Our lives, our all, forevermore ! 
With hearts of love waft Thy name above, 

And ever Thy great name adore. 

Hail! Bethlehem's star, seen from ^.far 

By Wise Men who to Jesus came, 
With gifts of love, as from above 

Angels sang hosannas to His name. 
Then let us now to Jesus bow, 

Who died that we might live, 
And piaise His aame, who bore our shame, 

His precious life to give. 

Sweet Christmas morn, when Christ was born, 
We greet thee in our Saviour's name. 



198 CHRISTMAS 1>0EMS 



As loved ones meet, with joy to greet 

The day the infant Jesus came 
To a world of woe, that we might know 

Redemption through His precious blood, 
On the Cross to die, ascend on high. 

Our great and never-changing God. 

Blest be the day ! as low we pray, 

With rev'rence to our Jesus now ; 
As songs ascend to our great Friend, 

Let all the nations bow, 
And hail Him King, who life did bring 

Eternal to us mortals here. 
As from Heaven above ring anthems of love. 

Our grateful hearts to cheer. 



OLD-FASHIONED CHRISTMAS DINNER 

AN old-fashioned Christmas dinner is good enough for me, 

A well-spread table, your worth while to see; 
Carved turkey with dressing, cranberry sauce with it, too, 
Pumpkin pies, mince pies, and plum-pudding, will do ; 
Delightful yeast biscuit with creamy butter well spread, 
Baked Irish and sweet potatoes, ah ! both here, I see, 
And the dear old thickened gravy, just good enough for me; 
And for drink : tea and coffee, milk and cider, so fine. 
Ah! this is a feast that makes the heart glad, 
'Tis in the country you'll find it—only there to be had. 
And jovial the diners as the dishes pass 'round. 
As mirth and laughter o^er Ihe table resound. 



CHRISTMAS POEMS 199 



CHRISTMAS CHIMES 

jy|ERRY, jingling Christmas chimes, 

With your music or many climes. 
With your sweet, melodious rhymes 

On the air, wafted there- 
Greet the absent ones away, 
Hail loved ones with us to-day, 
Or if some, perchance, may stray 

Far from home, onward roam. 
Greet them in their silence there 
With a mother's holy prayer, 

Send ye forth a joyous peal. 
As fond loving hearts doth feel 
Holy love still o'er them steal. 

O'er each soul, all control 
With an influence that's divine, 
As sweet, sparkling eyes now shine 
On home scenes — our earthly shrine 

Here below, as the flow 
Of the fountain of sweet song 
With your chimes its notes prolong. 

Let your chimes forever ring 
Of the Christ forever King; 
Of His mercies ever sing 

Far and near, e'er revere 
That sweet name, which like a charm 
All our fears and griefs disarm, 
He who shields and keeps from harm 



200 CHRISTMAS POEMS 



Those we love ; from above 
Let God's benediction fall, 
Resting ever on us all. 

Chime the story still of old. 
In bright notes of finest gold, 
How the shepherds did behold 

Lying low, 'neath the glow ^ 
Of bright Bethlehem's golden stay 
The fair babe, as from afar. 
From Heaven's golden gates ajar 

Light divine forth did shine 
From God's great pavilion there 
On the Christ— thi^ babe so fair. 

Let false Christs forever flee, . 
To the true God bow the knee, 
As the Christmas chimes ring free 

Of His love from abpve ; 
As around the festal boarcj me meet 
In home's sacred, sweet retreat,. 
May the circle be complete 

Ever dear, ever near 
To each heart its pleasures be. 
Where fond souls are true to thee. 



EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 201 



EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 



THESOLDIER'S FA RE WK 1.1, 

pAREWELL ! my native land, farewell ! 

Whether I return, none, none can tell. 
Across a waste of waters wide 
I go to stem the battle's tide, 
Where Death stalks grim I go to him, 
On gory fields, dark, vast and dim. 
But like a hero I wi'l fall. 
And sweetly smile at Death's dark pall, 
With my country's flig a-waving o'er, 
Tho' my native land I see no more. 

Farewell ! fond mother, and father true. 

And sweetheart true as heaven's blue ; 

Weep not for me if I should fall. 

For Death, you know, does not end all : 

Die like a man I only can, 

For life to all is one short span. 

I as a loyal son shall be. 

True to my country, God and thee. 

Let Freedom's flag still o'er me wave, 

When I shaU find a hero's grave. 



202 EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 



Aye ! boldly will I meet the foe. 

Amid the hellish din and glow 

Of thundering cannon, dark and grim. 

My trust fixed fiimly still in Him 

Who rules the earth, the sea, the sky. 

To bravely die and yet not die, 

For life immortal mine shall be, 

In that Blest Land where all are free. 

Wave, Freedom's emblem, wave on high. 

For your brave sons f tar not to die I 



THE SOLDIEil'S SONG 

A WAY, and away, we sail o'er the main 

Of wide, seething wat^s, with joy in our train. 
With hearts ever fearless to do and to dare. 
And little for dangers do we have a care. 
For brave are our sons, grim death we defy. 
For our country and flag we nobly will die. 
As onvvard our vessel speeds over the sea. 
Let our hearts be as light as the flag of the free. 

Chorus ; 

Then drink to the brave. 
Who the Nation will save. 
And death to the traitor 
Who would us enslave. 
On, on to the foe. 
Meet death with a blow, 
As heroes we'll fight 
Till in death we're laid low. 



EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 201^ 



Ho, comrades we land on a far foreign soil. 
Where roar the cannon, and shells seek their spoil. 
Let dastards and cowards in fear ever tiee. 
But 'tis music, you know, to you and to me. 
The grim flashing cannon, the shot and shell. 
The fierce lurid fires of a dark seething hell. 
We fear not the foe, for soldiers are we, 
Who never to mortals will e'er bend the knee. 

Chorus : 
Then drink to the brave, etc. 

Tis sweet but to die for the land that we love. 
As the flag of the free floats unsullied above. 
To win or to die, whiche'er it may be ; 
Oh, thou, fair Columbia, our hearts are with thee. 
On fields vast and gory, grim death we defy. 
Cringe not at his form, tho' his image be nigh. 
Then sing us our song tho' it may be the last. 
And fear, oh, never, death's withering blast. 

Chorus : 
Then drink to the brave, etc. 



204 EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 



A WAR SONG 

Uo, coMRADE$! we sail, 'mid tempest and gale, 
As Freedom's brave sons, to her ever true. 
On foreij^n shores landing and gallantly standing. 
For the Star Spangled Banner— the Red, White and Blue ; 
As soldiers e'er brave, we'll ne'er be the slave 

Of traitors, or tyrants, or oppressors that sway. 
For death we ne'er fear, but with loud, ringing cheer, 
We'll conquer or die, till the foe shall give way. 

We'll face the iron hail and never will quail, 

Tho' pressed by the foe on the vast, gory field, 
As our flag floats on high, still rallying we'll cry, 

"On, on ye brave comrades, for we never will yield." 
Then we'll sail o'er the main to snap asunder the chain. 

That hold oppressed people 'neath a despot's proud sway. 
To win or to die, for victory we cry, 

Tho' we never may see our sweet homes again. 

Wave on, "Old Glory." and e'er tell the story 

Of your brave sons a-fighting, yet nobly to lall, 
While death's missiles are singing, our death-knell a-ringing. 

We, without a murmur, will surrender our all. 
Farewell to all dear, though death we meet here, 

On vast fields of carnage, so grim and so gory ; 
With the Star Spangled Banner, we'll die in this manner, 

And let our brave deeds speak to all of "Old Glory." 



EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 205 



SONG OF SONS OF FKFKDOM 

^LL hail to sweet Freedom ! ye brave sons of toil, 

The oppressor, and aggressor, and traitor to (oil ; 
Ye sinew of our nation, our country's salvation, 
And only to God will we give adoration. 
As equals we stand neath Heaven's high dome. 
Defending our nation, our flag, and our home. 
Equal justice shall be meted to one and to all, 
Regardless of color, to great and to small. 

Chorus : 

Then stand to your guns. Freedom's brave, loyal sons, 
As floats Freedom's banner, unsullied and true. 

The weak e'er defending, to tyrants ne'er bending. 
Three cheers once again for the Red, White and Blue. 

We cringe to no nation in this world-wide creation. 
And spurn fawning vassals with just indignation. 
The oppressor shall flee, and tyrants shall quake. 
And Justice and Right shall make and unmake. 
No line of demarcation in the land of the free. 
And only to God will we e'er bend the knee ; 
As united we stand, all foes to defy, 
As floats our proud banner unsullied on high. 

Chorus : Thei. stand to your guns, etc. 

All hail, fair Columbia ! by loyal sons blest. 
Where the people shall rule, in peace yet to rest. 
From coast unto coast as one we shall be, 
And Justice and Right rule the land of the free. 



206 EUROPEAN WAR POEMS 



Our soil is e'er sacred, for the blood of our dead, 
For Freedom's fair land e'er nobly was shed. 
God shield e'er the fair land of the free and the brave, 
As floats Freedom's banner o'er each hero's grave. 

Chorus : Then stand to your guns, etc. 



GREATEST HERO OF THEM. ALL 

nnHE greatest hero of them all, 

Is he who conquers passions that enthrall 
The restless soul, with power subdue 
The evil that men often do : 
Quell the dread foes that lurk within 
The human heart, so prone to sin ; 
Prove a victor o'er the vices of his race, 
And ne'er the likeness of his God deface. 

The noblest of them all is he 
Who, from debasing vices free. 
Defends the right, condemns the wrong. 
Protects the weak against the strong, 
Extends his hand with a smiling face. 
The' lowly be a brother's place ; 
And like the Master when here below, 
Bring joy to the haunts of want and woe. 



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